


would you be so kind

by elliestars



Category: The Owl House (Cartoon)
Genre: (obvious sarcasm), ASDKFDKDKSKFJKDF, Abuse, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gay, Gay Panic, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, I DIDNT MEAN FOR CH3 TO BE 20K, IM, Kat is a weeb, Mentioned suicide, Mentions of homophobia, SKSKSKSKSK I SLIPPED UP AND WROTE FIC AT ONE PART, STUFF IS GETTING GOOD, Swearing, VERY META OF ME, ah should i like tag swearing or smthn, amelia!! billie eilish fan!!, and some homoerotic fighting, anyways the chapters will get longer as the story goes on so be prepared for that B), anyways we love some moral ambiguity!!, artist! amity, god this setup took a long time for me to figure out, im channeling mermista with skara if u were wondering, me?? projecting my adhd onto luz?? haha wow why would you think that, mentioned self-harm, please that scene was so gay, took me 10k words just to say lesbian huh, watch me kesmash in the tags lol, wow oh fuck we're getting into the good parts, writer! luz, yeah don't worry you'll meet the rest of the gang soon i promise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:20:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 35,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27999627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elliestars/pseuds/elliestars
Summary: “Creative writing? I’m not even good at being creative, nevermind writing!” Amity said, crossing her arms.“It’s not about whether you write, really. Being creative is just letting your thoughts out.” Luz replied, probably thinking that this would take a while.And so she was right.—When Amity enters senior year, she gets blindsided by being signed up for a creative writing elective, where she has to team up with someone to write a novel. Turns out, some girl named Luz gets assigned as her writing partner. But how can you understand the writing of someone you despise so much?Or, Amity learns that maybe, A little writing can change someone’s life.
Relationships: Amity Blight/Luz Noceda, Emira Blight/Viney
Comments: 17
Kudos: 117





	1. let’s write a story, be in my book

**Author's Note:**

> ahhhh yes! it’s finally here! I’ve had this idea in my noggin for months now, and I’ve finally gotten to putting it in my notes app. it took some work to get the words out onto paper, but i finally finished it. hope you enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi skghskhdgshk
> 
> this was short compared to the other chapters beyond this, which is for a reason. because its the beginning chapter, i didnt want to give you guys too big of a mouthful, so i started out slow.
> 
> also this took a long time to get on paper. enjoy :D
> 
> follow me on tumbler for more epic n cool stuff: https://elliestarss.tumblr.com
> 
> (shhh no i am totally not coming back and editing this later. u didnt see anything.)

_Stupid electives._

Amity grumbled, speedwalking to her locker, shoving several people past her. 

_Stupid fucking writing elective. Why do I even need a solid 4.24 GPA to get into Harvard? Can’t I just go with the current credits I have?_

She threw open her locker in a daze, scaring the people standing next to her. 

She ripped her hands through the locker, frenzily searching for That One Book she needed for her literature class that she probably should’ve dug out earlier, but didn’t.

_So much for being top student._

Amity grasped the 970-something-page book and brushed off the cover, slipping it under her jacket arm.

She glanced at the mirror attached to her door.

Amity brushed a hair from her face and stood there, looking at herself.

Black hoodie, cuffed jeans, black-stud triangular earrings, sneakers that probably cost more than the average student’s life would.  _Just my usual outfit._

What she didn’t like was her hair, which had the consistency of an unbrushed lion’s mane. 

And specifically she didn’t like its color, a sort of minty green. 

_MINT GREEN?_

_WHAT WAS I THINKING?!_

_Man, 14 year old me had some mad problems._

But that didn’t really matter now. After almost four years of keeping up with the color, she decided it didn’t suit her anymore. Her brunette roots were coming back in. And that was good, because she definitely didn’t want to look like a complete dipwad when she was inevitably going to be carted off to Harvard by the end of the year.

Amity smiled to herself. 

School passes by fast. One day, you’re stepping foot into the chopping block that is middle school, and the next, you’re ruling the top class of seniors. Or getting stepped on by them. Depends on who you are.

And for Amity, school couldn’t pass by faster. All of it felt like a blur to her. A project there, a homework assignment there, several exams, going to parties, getting in good with all of the upper crusts... 

....It’s not as exciting as you think. It’s pretty boring, actually.

For the ‘Average’ highschooler, being able to fit in with only the top of the top is an actual dream. But for Amity?

It was like tasting cardboard. Every. Single. Weekday.

Her friends all had the literal personality of a fucking hairclip.

Her friends, the admirable school-ruling posse, had been with her since she started freshman year. 

And for three years they stayed, helping her out with homework assignments, (Mostly by cheating, they weren’t exactly the brightest souls in the school) being literal party magnets, (Amity couldn’t go one month without being dragged to one) and, most importantly, helping Amity realize that if she didn’t change something about her life now, she’d start turning into a bottle of strawberry-flavored lipstick.

The funny thing is, not one thing about her posse changed. Okay, maybe they did grow a few inches, but even now, two weeks into senior year, they have the mentalities of 14 year olds. 

_Hey, congrats! You got the rest of your life to mull over how annoying your high school friends were, while you sit in a high-rise office sipping cold lattes._

Amity dug out a small spiral journal, buried underneath books and whatnot in her backpack. 

The cover was close to being torn off by now, so she opened it tenderly. 

She bought this journal when she was first in high school. Amity knew that classes would nearly bore her to death, so she came prepared.

By now, each and every page was filled with drawing after drawing. Amity was surprised that even after three years, that journal still wasn’t full.

Funny thing is, is that three years ago, she’d promised herself she would finish the journal when she was 18.

And that something special would go on that last page, as a send-off, a sort of memory to keep. 

_Whatever that memory was._ Amity didn’t know. It wasn’t like her estrogen-filled teenage self planned out her whole life.

She smiled anyways.

_Guess I’ll just have to find out. Maybe 14 year old me didn’t have that many problems._

Unfortunately, Amity’s schedule didn’t allow self-reflection. In fact, it involved English, which she was going to be late to.

She stuffed her journal in her backpack and shut her locker, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

Amity sighed.

She briskly walked off to English, shrugging off whatever nostalgic feeling she had left.

——-

“Turn to page 88, and start reading.” 

Mrs. Cardello’s voice didn’t register fully in Amity’s head, but she opened her book and flipped to the page anyway.

She rested her arm on the wooden desk and sighed.

What her mind was actually focused on was the elective she’d been signed up for.

And the fact that it’d completely caught her off guard. 

—

Electives were probably mentioned somewhere in freshman year orientation, but Amity probably wasn’t listening. 

Turns out, people don’t choose which electives get assigned to them in senior year.

The school takes a look at your grades and curricular activities, and decides itself which elective you’d fit in the most. 

There were a few electives specifically, like the business elective, the biology elective, you get the point.

And all of these electives would add to your overall GPA, giving you enough credits to send anyone to college.

What Amity didn’t understand is the elective she’d been assigned.

The top student should probably be assigned something brainy, like biology, or mathematics, or even cultural history.

Amity got assigned creative writing, however.

—

“Now, everyone, we’ll take a small break to gather notes. If there’s any questions, raise your hand, and I’ll go over it with you.” Mrs. Cardello croned.

Amity took out a pen, but instead of grabbing the notes to go with it, she twirled with her finger against the desk, deep in thought.

—

_Why? Why creative writing? I’m not even that good at being creative, never mind writing._

And worse, all seniors are allowed to take any elective, regardless of whether they have the means to graduate high school or not.

Which means Amity could be sitting with a future psychopath, or at the least bit someone she knew her family and bloodline would deem a psychopath. 

Amity just hoped whoever she sat with was good at writing.

—

The speaker on the ceiling came on, scaring Amity out of her seat.

“Good morning, students, I’d like ask that all people assigned to the creative writing elective come down to the main office for first orientation. Thank you!” 

_What, can the principal read my thoughts now?_

Mrs. Cardello stacked her papers, staring at a few people in the class, including Amity. “Since you’ll be heading to the office now, I’ll assign you the rest of pages 100-120 to read as homework.”

The students groaned, shuffling to pick up their bags, and walking to the front door.

Amity slung her bag over her shoulder.

_Magical cartoony anvil, if you could fall out of the sky now, that would be great,_ Amity silently pleaded.

But alas, there was no magical cartoony anvil knocking Amity out. For right now, at least. 

She ran after the rest of the students heading down to the office.

——-

It took a little bit of speedwalking to catch up with everyone else, but Amity made it just to trail behind the group of assigned people.

Among the crowd of students, Amity pushed and shoved her way to the front door to the office. Funny enough, when you’re a popular kid, apparently people don’t automatically clear out in your direction. 

She weaseled her way past the front and went into the office. It was full to the brim.

The front office was actually pretty big. The secretary’s desk sat on the right side of the room, next to a giant fern and a few weird paintings that Amity couldn’t decipher.

To the left was the principal’s office. Any minute now, as per the announcement, Principal Bump was to come strolling out of there, then to which he’d give all the students their death sentence.

It looked like any usual office would.

Minus the carpet, which looked like it had been ripped straight out of an arcade. It had dozens of red and yellow stars spread across it, with small green spirals lining those stars. 

_Now all this place needs is a giant pizzeria and we’ll be set,_ Amity thought.

She looked around at the rest of the crowd in the office.

One look on each kid’s face and Amity knew they were all facing the same terrible fate.

She slung her bag off of her shoulder and sank into one of the cushioned couches sitting in the secretary’s office. 

She tapped her foot on the ground anxiously. 

_Is there a reason why all of us are here at once? Why not have, I don’t know, an assembly? That just makes more sense, I mean come on._

Amity rubbed the heel of her sneaker against the couch’s wooden rim nervously, scuffing the polish on the wood.

Just then, the principal’s office door opened. 

—

Amity sighed.  _Finally._

“To all of you creative writing elective participants, you may already know that you’ve been assigned this elective since senior orientation. I’ve called all of you down here to disclose further details about it.” Principal Bump said, stepping out into the main office.

“First of all, you were all signed this elective as a result of our administrative board looking over your curriculums and classes, and deciding which one was best for you to take. I have no doubts you all will live up to your full potential in this class.”

_Pfft, full potential. When did I ever have that?_ Amity thought, rolling her eyes.

“Second of all, let me remind you that getting into this is the easy part. In order to graduate this elective with even a qualifying full grade, you must attend every single session, not just complete all assignments with a satisfying score.”

_Alright, can do. I’ve had a track record for being on time to everything,_ Amity thought, grinning.

“Third of all, besides the obvious LA course classes and assignments, you all will be given a mandatory graded project to have completed by the end of this year.” Bump continued, crossing his arms and observing the crowd.

_Ooh, wow, a project. Wonder what it’ll be. Cultural history? Opinion essays? Editorials? Anything I could do myself would be great._ Amity smiled to herself.

“Mr. DePlume has assigned you all a creative writing project. In this, you will partner up with another student, and work together to create a story.”

Amity froze. She bit her lip.

_Hell. No._

“It can be any genre. Science, Horror, you name it. Your goal by the end of this year is to write a novel with a partner. Your work will be graded, depending on the quality of your writing. And of course, as per DePlume’s words, ‘Be creative!’”

_No. No. No. No. This can’t be happening._ Amity gritted her teeth.  _Please, please say I can skip this._

“Your first session will be at 4:30 this afternoon, in Mrs. Cardello’s classroom. In this, your partner will be assigned to you, and you’ll get more closure on what’s to come for this year. Good luck, students!”

Amity felt her heart move to her throat. Her legs shook and her hands perspired.

Everyone started moving past her, pushing her along with them like a struggling fish caught in a powerful current.

She was swept out of the office, a fish out of water and out of breath.

Amity blinked. Mere seconds ago had she just been assigned the one thing that could ruin her school life. 

_Working with people._

_It HAD to be that._

Amity looked around and clasped her hands tighter around the straps of her bookbag. By now, English was probably over and Homeroom was starting. She had to get to class.

Amity jerked her body forward and dashed down the hall, hot on the tail of the other students.

_When the hell was that anvil coming?_

——-

_This is it, Amity. The first day of the rest of your life. Just open the door, try not to get blinded by fate, and walk in._

Amity blinked. Funny enough, the rickety, squeaky door to Mrs. Cardello’s room didn’t seem so squeaky anymore. In fact, it almost felt like she was opening the golden gates to some kingdom, waiting for the light to shine through and treasures as far as the eye could see to fill her vision. 

She put her hand on the knob, and breathed a shaky breath.

_Pull it._

She turned the knob and swung the door open, fluttering open her eyes at the right time, waiting for the light of destiny to blind her.

Actually, the only light that was going to blind her was sealed away by the windows, which had their shutters shut for some reason. So much for dramatic effect.

Amity walked into the room, and sat at a desk. She looked around.

Mrs. Cardello’s room was as it usually was. Wooden desks with plastic and metal chairs lined neatly throughout the room. Around 20 other students were in there, and most of them were already seated.

The general consensus was, was that if two people sat together at a desk, they were partners for the assignment. DePlume wasn’t saying anything.

Amity glanced over to the seat next to her. 

_It’s empty._

_Maybe I am lucky today._

“Fellow kids, students, whatnot! I have arrived!” 

Amity shot her head up to see a very strange-looking man strutting into class. 

He had purple hair, half-buzzcut, combed to strands and strung across half of his face. He wore red trendy-like glasses, and wore a pinstripe suit, with a green bowtie.

In short, Mr. Deplume was from the 1920s. Or at least traveled here from the 1920s. There was no way he would normally dress like that in the year 2020. 

He spread his body across his desk and laid there all queen-like. “Students, boys, girls, and other folks, I am your teacher for the creative writing elective. You may already know my name, but if you don’t, I am Johnathan Bryke DePlume, creator of worlds!” He shouted, throwing a fist in the air.

_So he’s drunk,_ Amity thought.  _There is literally no other explanation for that._

“So, as you may already know, this class is a course on everything writing and literature. Text formatting, word choice, you name it.” Mr. DePlume said, getting up from his desk. He took out a rainbow-colored dry erase marker and started writing on the whiteboard hanging behind the desk.

_You know, maybe he isn’t so drunk,_ Amity pondered, tapping her foot on the ground thoughtfully, focusing on what DePlume was writing on the board.

“Now, while this is a creative writing class, I’m afraid I will not be teaching you all how to be writers.” DePlume said, without batting an eye to the rest of the class they proceeded to gape and gasp at that statement.

One student felt the need to express their thoughts. “Well then, wise guy, what are you teaching us?” 

DePlume stopped writing and turned around.

“I was just about to answer that question. I know, I know, all of you must be very confused right now, but, let me assure you, I fully meant what I said. I’m not teaching you how to be writers. In fact—“ DePlume replied, turning back to the board, continuing his work. “—You all are already writers.”

—

An audible gasp could be heard from every person in the room. Amity lifted her head up at that comment.  _What the hell is this guy’s deal, anyways? I’ve never been a writer._

“Mr. DePlume, was it? Might I ask, how are we already writers?” Amity said, impulsively.

DePlume turned around and smiled. “Mrs. Blight, I can tell you’re caught off by that. All of you, hear me out. In this class, I mentioned I’d teach you how to write in the correct format, how to use fine word choice, and how to make effective choice in what you’re writing about. But while that is writing, that’s not what being a writer is.” DePlume said, walking forward to face the class, leaving the board behind, but now stepping away from what he wrote.

“You could read all about mountain climbing, and know how to do it, but unless you don’t climb one, you can’t call yourself a mountain climber.” DePlume crossed his arms. “That’s sort of like writing. You can know how to do it, but unless you choose to bring what you have to the table, you cannot call yourself a writer.” 

Amity thought.  _Unless you choose to bring what you have to the table._

“That’s why I’m assigning you all to write a story. You’re writing your own creations. You’re making your own worlds. You get to choose what you want to say, not what your English textbooks want you to say.” DePlume stepped away from the board, revealing what he’d drawn.

“Writing can be life-changing. It’s an escape, it’s a wish, a memory, and a work of art all at once. No one controls what you write, no one defines what you write. It’s your choice.” He said, grinning.

The board had a picture of a book on it, that said “DEFINE WRITING” in big, bold letters. 

Suddenly, DePlume didn’t seem so drunk anymore. In fact, he definitely wasn’t like any of the other teachers at Hexside.

“This, per se, is why, for your mandatory assignment, you’ll have the chance to write your own work of art. Your own story. Now, I assume everyone here already has a partner to write the assignment with, yes?” DePlume said, looking around the room.

Amity looked around too, suddenly remembering she was the only one in the room without a writing partner. She smiled.

_Hey, maybe DePlume will allow me to do this class on my own. I could probably write a book by myself—_

The door to the room swung open.

“Mr. DePlume! Aw heck, I’m so sorry I’m late! It’s just—augh, I got locked in the bathroom again, and I had to head over to the gas station to get some groceries—agh, nevermind—I’m sorry!” A frantic voice yelled at the front of the classroom.

Mr. DePlume sighed. “Mrs. Noceda, I’m a little disappointed that you’re late to your first session, but I won’t take that out of your grade. Just try not to be late again, alright?” 

“Got it,” the voice said.

“There’s one empty desk left. You can sit there.” DePlume said, turning back to the board.

Amity froze.

_Wait._

The figure plopped down on the chair next to her, and swung their bag over the desk.

Amity looked at the sack, which had been pushed to her side. It was covered with bottle cap pins, stickers, keychains, you name it.

_Obviously, whoever owned this bag was one hell of a clusterfuck,_ Amity thought, gritting her teeth.

_I could’ve gotten out of this alive, but no. My luck had to run out at just the worst time, didn’t it?_

“Amazing! Now that everyone here has a writing partner, I’ll give you all time to get to know each other before this session is over. Remember—communication is key if you want to write a shared work together!” DePlume said, sitting on his desk again.

Amity felt a tap on her shoulder. 

She spun around, ready to dropkick anyone in her radius.

“The hell do you want?” Amity growled, before fully turning around.

“Chillax, I’m just saying hi. No need to get all hissy about it.” The figure responded.

Amity looked at them.

There was a girl, about her age, arms folded behind her, relaxing in her chair. 

She had sparkling brown eyes, and small bits of freckles littered over tan skin.

Thick brown bangs of hair covered her shoulders. Two, to be precise. The rest of that hair had to be tucked in that ridiculous-looking red beanie of hers. 

She wore a denim button-up sleeved vest, which covered a purple and white striped shirt, tucked into cuffed jeans.

And to complete the look?

_Brown. Fucking. Combat. Boots._

Amity questioned if this girl had rolled out of bed like this.

Amity had so many thoughts circling around in her mind in that moment, so many things she wanted to say.  _Fuck off, idiot. Get out of here! I was just about to have a lucky day! I am SO not working with you._

And, surprisingly:

_Wow. You’re fucking adorable._

Amity sat there, looking at the girl. Her entire body was frozen with anger. She dug her nails into her leg, and looked straight at the girl.

_Say something. Say something. Say something._

“Piss off.” Amity growled, staring daggers at the girl.

The girl rolled her eyes. She held out a hand to Amity.

“Nice to meet you too. Name’s Luz.” She said, smiling condescendingly. She wasn’t even trying to hide how pissed she was.

Amity shook Luz’s hand. “Nice to meet you,  _Luz.”_ She gritted through her teeth.

DePlume clapped his hands together. 

“Alright, students! Now that I’m sure you’ve had time to introduce yourselves to one another, this session has come to an end. We’ll have our first course next session, but for the meantime, I’d like you all to start work on your creative writing project.” DePlume said, wiping off the whiteboard. 

As if on cue, all of the students got up, and started walking out of class.

Amity slipped her bookbag over her shoulder and started walking out of the classroom with everyone else. Right then, she had her mind set on going to the parking lot, getting in her car, and turning the heat onto the highest setting.

And she was almost out of the hallway, when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

She spun around, ready to slap Luz. She instantly knew it was her.

“What the hell’s your problem? Anyone ever taught you personal space?” She yelled.

Luz sighed and rolled her eyes, pulling her arm back. 

“Amity, was it? I’ve seen you around school before.” She said.

Amity forgot for a second that she was popular.

“Yeah. You probably also know that I don’t tend to like people like you.” Amity replied cheekily.

“‘Like me?’ You mean you don’t like people who don’t come from the same crust as you? Or is it that you only and specifically hang out with the other brains of this school?” Luz retorted, staring daggers at Amity.

Amity stood there.

_Luz has a point. I mean, I guess I don’t like her because she isn’t like me. She isn’t me. That kind of makes her human scum, right?_

Amity sighed and rolled her eyes, slipping her hands into her hoodie’s pockets.

“Pssh, whatever. I don’t think you’d understand.” Amity said.

“Well, if we’re gonna be writing something together, you’re gonna need to understand me pretty well.” Luz replied, opening her bag and taking out a piece of paper and a pen.

Amity couldn’t see what Luz was writing very well. The sunset spilling through the windows didn’t do much justice to lighting the hallway.

Luz handed Amity the piece of paper she was writing on.

It read: _562-8964._

“It’s my number,” Luz said. “If we’re gonna work on this project together, we’ll need to have a way to contact each other to schedule a workshop.”

Amity eyed the paper, and shoved it in her hoodie pocket, sighing.

“Thanks, I guess.” Amity said, shining a half-smile.

“No problem. And, Amity?” Luz said, turning around to face Amity before walking away.

“Yeah?” Amity replied.

“Piss off.” Luz cackled, turning around and walking in the other direction.

Amity rolled her eyes and smirked.

_What a weirdo._

She turned around to walk to the parking lot, hands in her hoodie pocket, a grin on her face.

——-

Amity walked into her room and sunk into her heavily-cushioned bed. 

By now, the sun had fully set, and the only thing illuminating Amity’s room was her pink lava lamp sitting on her bookshelf. Somehow, even after years of having it, it didn’t stop working.

Amity sighed, kicking her shoes off, and fluffing the pillow around her head. Dinner was probably ready downstairs, thanks to the efforts of the cooking staff.

She smiled to herself.

_“Piss off.”_

Those words Luz said kept replaying in her mind.

Funny enough, they didn’t carry much malice in them. It sounded playful, and maybe somewhat sweet.

Amity rolled her eyes, and reached into her hoodie pocket, taking out the piece of paper that had Luz’s number on it.

_Man, if I were holding this four years ago, I would’ve been freaking out. I’ve never had a girl’s number before._

Amity took out her phone, turning it on and scrolling through it until she reached the app labeled Contacts.

She dialed the number on the paper into the phone, carefully reading each and every digit.

Her finger hovered over the call button.

_This is it. The first night of the rest of my life._

She tapped it, and breathed in a shaky breath.

After a few seconds of waiting, the call was picked up.

“Hey, Luz. So, when do you think we can meet up for that writing project?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u for reading!! gosh,, 100k fic,, o boye this is gonna be tough to finish,,
> 
> if u liked this, feel free to leave a kudos! (also if u comment ilysm <3)
> 
> and yeah thats abt it feel free to follow me on tumbler for epic poggers stuff: https://elliestarss.tumblr.com


	2. rain or shine, i'll be fine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "office depot unicorn journal" (chapter 2, episode 1/2) - Amity sets out to Office Depot for writing supplies on a surprisingly chilly day in Bonesborough. But getting them might prove easier said than done...
> 
> \--
> 
> "those pride stickers on her laptop" (chapter 2, episode 2/2) - Luz and Amity finally meet at their first workshop. Looks like there's something more than just books on the table for these two, and both of them know it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so here's a little bit of clarification for those of you who are confused about the chapter setup of wybsk.
> 
> in each chapter, there are usually 2-3 individual stories (i like to call them episodes, but you can refer to them as whatever you like). in rare cases, there will only be one major story episode. 
> 
> each of these episodes can focus around a specific story arc or character. it can be either plot-focused or just fluffy, like this chapter's stories.
> 
> i'm actually glad i was FINALLY able to get my crap together and arrange a story setup for this that's enjoyable for everyone. 
> 
> have fun reading!

The weekend couldn’t have passed by faster.

  
Which is why, unfortunately, after an insomnia-and-dread induced nap, Amity had to get up to head to Office Depot.

  
Amity’s groans were muffled as she shifted the covers off of her head. She peeked her face out from under her blankets and groped her hand around her desk, trying to reach for her phone.

  
Amity snatched the phone from the top of her desk, emerging from the blankets and sitting upright against her pillow.

  
She pressed the home button, and the overly-saturated brightness blinded her temporarily.

  
A notification popped up on her screen.

  
_Sun @ 5:30 PM, Office Depot. Journals, pencils, erasers. i stg if i forget this shit_

  
Amity read the notification and sighed. 

  
She tapped on the Reminders app and scrolled down, seeing what other stuff she wrote down.

  
_Thur @ 4:30, Workshop w/ Luz._

  
Amity perked up.

  
By this point, she had vaguely remembered calling Luz to schedule their meeting. Either that, or she hadn’t fully woken up yet to process that memory.

  
Regardless, Amity still opened up the phone number that laid under the reminder. 

  
She’d only been off of her phone for a few days since she last checked Luz’s texts back to her. 

  
Amity scrolled up the text history feverishly. _7, 8, 9, 10? 13? 13 texts? How did I miss all of these?_

  
Most of them were just Luz saying hey, that she just got off of her shift at Taco Burger, and that she’d gotten something for the workshop.

_An oversharer,_ Amity noted. 

  
The most recent text was “Hey, you know, I actually brought something pretty cool for the workshop. You’ve gotta see it. I know you’ll love it.”

  
Amity groaned.

  
It’s funny, because she wasn’t exactly friends with Luz yet. I mean, they had to work on a school project together, so on a professional sense, they were close.

  
But outside of that, Amity didn’t know why Luz was texting her all about her job at some capitalist restaurant, or why she was even saying hi to her.

  
_Maybe that’s just Luz,_ Amity thought.

  
She shut off her phone, and flipped the covers to the side, stepping out of her bed.

  
She yawned, and stretched a little, which wouldn’t help the fact that she still had a headache from before she even laid down.

Amity turned her gaze over to one of the many windows lining her room.

It was raining hard outside, of course, and because it was fall, that rain was absolutely guaranteed to be cold.

Definitely not the weather one would want to go shopping in.

Amity pulled on one of her many wrinkled sweatshirts and put a hand on her door, gripping the cold knob.

She sighed, and opened the door.

She didn’t hear any footsteps or voices downstairs, so it was safe to assume she was alone in the house.

Or so Amity thought.

She headed down the staircase of the mansion, and to the kitchen. Plastic bags didn’t hold office supplies well, from other experiences.

Naturally, one of those useless fabric yoga bags that her mom had collected over the years would do.

Amity trudged down the stairs, paying mind to the agony of the cold wooden steps. _Maybe I should’ve put on socks or something,_ Amity grumbled, locking her arms together to preserve heat as she made her journey down to the bottom step.

Reaching the familiar marble tiling, Amity smoothed her feet across the floor and started plodding towards the kitchen.

And that’s when the smell hit.

It wasn’t completely awful, or absolutely horrendous, but it was enough to make Amity wince and throw a sleeved hand over her mouth.

That got Amity to perk her head up and finally notice the smoke coming from the kitchen.

All of a sudden, reality started kicking in, and the smoke coming from the kitchen started to fill Amity’s view. Then, the beeping of the oven, the clamoring of pots and pans, and the struggled grunting of a person who didn’t know how (but was desperately trying) to cook.

“WHERE THE HELL’S THE GARLIC SHAKER?” A female voice yelled from the kitchen, and it DEFINITELY didn’t belong to any of the cooking staff.

“WHY THE FUCK WOULD I KNOW, DIPSHIT?” A second, masculine voice shouted from further in the pantry room.

Amity waved away the smoke from her vision with her free hand, and sauntered into the kitchen.

Unfortunately, with how much the smoke was covering up her sight, she couldn’t see much aside a shadowy figure cluttering about in the kitchen.

They were pretty tall, Amity estimated, that based on their height, they were in their 20s.

The figure had a thin structure, and Amity could tell their hair was tied up in an extremely long ponytail. And from the bow-shaped silhouette draped across their back, Amity could tell they were wearing an apron.

And because they were wearing an apron, they were probably cooking.

Probably.

Because that definitely would explain all of the smoke.

Amity sniffed the air once more. She didn’t really know what she’d find, but she was looking to try and catch a whiff of food.

_*Sniff* Um, asparagus? It smells like earthy metal, so it’s gotta be._

_*Sniff* Stew. Roast stew, that’s—that’s definitely roast stew._

_*Sniff* I hope that’s chicken._

Amity looked around the kitchen. Luckily, all the smoke previously surrounding her was starting to lift up like a curtain, giving Amity the benefit of actually not being blind to her surroundings.

Amity opened her mouth to say something, but she was interrupted by the female voice yelling again from the stove.

“DIPSHIT? YOU’RE THE YOUNGER SIBLING!”

“WE’RE TWINS, EMIRA! WE’RE THE SAME AGE!”

If Amity had had water in her mouth at that moment, she would’ve done a spit take.

Luckily, the smoke didn’t need to settle anymore (It didn’t, anyways), because Amity already instantly knew who was in the kitchen.

“What the Sam hell are you two doing here?” Amity finally managed to yell, after traipsing her way to the marble countertop next to the stove and gripping the edge.

Edric blinked. “Lil sis? We didn’t expect you to be up at 5:30 of all times! You’re usually taking a depre—“

“—Look, I have to go to Office Depot to get some things for a school project. If I could sleep in longer, I would. But that doesn’t answer my question. What are you guys doing here?” Amity cut Edric off, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow.

“Well, Mom and Dad called us here today because they needed help with the house while they were on their ‘Big Toronto Buisness Trip’. They laid off all of the cooking staff to save money. We’re not that heartless, Amity.” Emira replied, showing a fond smile. “Besides, me and Edric never turn down a request from our parents.”

“We’re doing it for the money. Once they give us the check, we’re off and out of here.” Edric replied bluntly. _He sure didn’t try to sugarcoat anything,_ Amity thought.

“And you know they’ll let you leave soon.. how?” Amity asked.

“Well, because we came here specifically for the money and jobs. They said we could—wait, Ed, how long did they say we had to stay here for?” Emira asked, turning her head towards Edric, who was still fumbling around in a spice cabinet.

“Now that I think about it, they never said we’d leave after they returned. I think they mentioned something about pulling the lease on the house while they discussed the terms with us.” Edric said, thought in his voice.

“You don’t mean—“ Emira gasped.

“Yep. I’m surprised you didn’t figure it out as is. Once I’m off to Harvard, Mom and Dad are gonna sell the house and move to Toronto. That means they probably hired you to stay the whole year, at least until I’m gone.” Amity said, half-smugly.

“You’re an observant little shit, aren’t you?” Emira smirked, putting her gloved hands on her hips.

“Only two years younger than you, and I still have this family’s braincell.” Amity retorted.

“Is nobody going to talk about the fact that we’re stuck here for a year?” Edric yelled, racing back to the counter with bottles of spices piled up in his arms.

“I guess not. There’s not really much to say about it. Looks like I’ll be sleeping in my old room again,” Emira said, half-nostalgic.

“Alright, well, I have thyme, garlic, basil, oregano, and possibly lime in here. Will these do?” Edric said, dumping the spices on the counter.

“Oh, yeah! Just put ‘em all in.” Emira gave a thumbs up as Edric proceeded to pour a mound of each spice into the pot on the stove.

Amity cringed. “Yep, that’s take-out dinner for me.”

“You don’t know what you’re missing out on! We’re fine cooks! Only the best!” Emira said jovially.

“You’re good at fucking up a probably good dinner,” Amity swore under her breath as she walked to the kitchen closet and opened up the door.

Her eyes scanned past the mops and brushes laying scattered across the floor and onto the dozens of yoga bags hanging off of the shelf rack.

Her hand reached for a bag with otters in yoga poses on it.

Amity scrunched the bag in her hand

_Basic,_ She examined, _But doable._

Amity shut the closet door and hung the bag over her shoulder, grabbing her car keys out of the pocket of her capris.

“I’ll be back in an hour and thirty minutes, tops. Don’t wait up for me, I’ll probably just eat later.” Amity sighed, turning towards the front door of the manor, scanning for her boots and coat.

“Well you better remember to eat anyways! We know you’re missing out on a lot of meals, Ami!” Emira yelled back.

Amity scoffed, throwing her coat over her head and stepping into her thick laced boots.

Emira absolutely had a point.

But at the same time, Emira had no knowledge of how to cook.

-

Amity stepped out into the cold rain, which padded hard against the colonial driveway of the manor.

Her eyes searched the lot for her car.

To put it into perspective, It was raining so hard, that Amity had to squint in order to catch the sight of the Chevrolet sitting by the far side of the driveway.

Amity ran towards the car, fast as she could (Which is pretty fast, considering she was the captain of the track team in Junior year), and jumped in the driver’s seat, jamming the key in the ignition.

The car sputtered and started up. Annoyingly, the further it gets into winter, the more the car’s engines freeze up. As rich as the Blights were, apparently, they couldn’t afford car sealants.

Amity put a foot on the gas and grumbled, dreading guiding her car through the rain.

The vehicle jerked forward responsively, and cruised its way through the gates of the Blight Manor, albeit crushing some of the planted peonies that lay in front of the gate’s entrance.

_That’s a problem for future me,_ Amity thought, as she drove the way to downtown Bonesborough.

—

In order to get from Blight Manor to downtown Bonesborough, you’d need a shooting star, a wizard, and a LOT of patience.

Amity never really thought about the fact that the drive to and from the city would be this much of a nightmare, considering that before she had a drivers’ license, a chauffeur always drove her.

Blight Manor, a vaguely quaint and overly victorian brick mansion, was built on an upper class development diagonal to downtown Bonesborough, Illinois. This wouldn’t be such a problem if there wasn’t a big fucking lake between the development and the actual city.

Luckily, the city’s government actually bothered to put a large suspension bridge connecting the development and the city, so that people wouldn’t have to take the half-hour drive all the way around the lake just to get groceries.

Amity shivered as she gripped the Chevrolet’s leather steering wheel, heat turned up to full blast. That didn’t do much to help the frost clear off of the windows of the car (Which was both on the inside and outside), or warm the seats.

In short, Amity was driving in a literal ice cube.

And the pounding rain outside certainly didn’t help.

Gravel and pavement crushed underneath the car’s wheels as Amity pulled up to the front of the development lot. She sighed a shaky and tired breath, noticing the puff of steam that echoed from her mouth.

The car approached a large winding black gate, surrounded by colorful flowers of all kinds. A brick pillar divided the gate into two halves, and a keypad lay in the middle of it.

Amity groaned and rolled down the driver’s window, cold rain stinging her hand. By now, the code to open the development’s gates had been burned in her mind.

Her fingers ran over the keys, gently typing in the code to open the gates.

_1102020._

The keypad lit up white and the gate to the development opened, sprinkling a fair bit of rain on the Chevrolet.

_Fucking finally,_ Amity thought. _That took way longer than it needed to._

She pulled her hand back onto the leather steering wheel and pushed her foot harder on the gas, driving out of the gate’s range.

Usually, traveling the path to the suspension bridge connecting to the city wouldn’t be so annoying. It’s a tiny grassy area, some flowers here and there, not much different from the average overgrown street.

What managed to make Amity in an already worse mood than she had already been in was the the low-hanging branches of the trees that kept smacking against her car, creating an unholy rattling sound as she drove on.

It definitely was a better melodica than whatever the hell was on the radio.

Every single drive’s music was a blur of Dua Lipa, Ariana Grande (Which was probably the worst out of all of them), Post Malone, and maybe another rapper that had hit the charts lately. It’s definitely good music fodder for a person who was just focusing on driving.

Amity never really considered herself judgmental of music. But the slow, everlooming sound of chains and mumble-whispers that clacked and rapped from the radio was starting to piss her off.

It definitely didn’t help that it was catchy. The worst situation that Amity had been in with this was when Boscha, one of the bitches in the lipstick posse, played Cradles on repeat 7 times straight at her family cookout. Amity nearly threw Boscha into a chokehold at that point.

Amity sighed, and pinched the bridge of her nose, pressing the button on the radio to switch it to something a little less insufferable.

Unfortunately, the only other stations she could find were Christmas and Mexican music, (Why the hell was Christmas music playing as early as September?) so Amity decided to go with the one that wouldn’t melt her ears off.

And that meant listening to lyrics in a language she knew next to nothing about for the rest of the ride. (Amity, unfortunately, took German instead of Spanish for her language courses. The only knowledge she retained from it was how to ask if someone is a horse in German.)

But finally, at last, the bright gates of heaven started filling Amity’s view, and the Chevrolet drove out of the development’s wooded area.

The car cruised along the soft pavement on the highway leading up to the bridge. It was raining unceremoniously hard at this point, and Amity could slightly recall the weather station announcing earlier there was going to be hail tonight. How lucky.

But among the cold sheets of rain that sloshed across the bridge and into the river, there was something else Amity never really bothered to notice about the city.

True, cruising through the city could be hot and sweaty, or in this case cold and wet, but no matter what weather, the city always glowed.

Call it what you must. The rain reflecting off of the city’s lights, leaving only specks of gold and orange shimmering throughout the city, or maybe even the gentle frost that littered the concrete roads.

Whatever it was, it almost made the city look (And Amity never thought she’d say this) magical.

And, maybe even though the Chevrolet felt like the Arctic circle had hosted a fiesta, Amity still smiled at the city’s blurry lights.

She ran her hands over the leather wheel and smiled, tapping her fingers rhythmically to the gentle swoons of the song.

A small jerk of the car upward signaled to Amity that she’d passed onto the bridge.

She lifted her foot slightly off of the gas and looked at the dozens of cars lined up in front of her.

_Traffic. I should’ve guessed._

Amity sighed, and continued running her hands over her wheel to the beat of the music.

Her gaze drifted out of her window and onto the other cars, closely studying each and everyone.

_Ford truck with a deer sticker on it. Probably a hunter with a gun permit._

_Toyota with a stickmen family sticker on it. Definitely a family car._

_Bright Blue PT Cruiser… I’m gonna assume that person still lives with their grandparents._

Amity sighed, and looked at her car’s dashboard.

It was a bright red Chevrolet, in a pretty mint condition. Amity had no knowledge of cars, but she estimated that it had about 3 more years left to live.

Edric had given her the car when he’d moved out of the house. (Look, I’ll say this. It wasn’t that Amity naturally assumed that Edric had parties in that car, but she sanitized and vacuumed the whole thing just in case. You can never be too safe.)

Amity sighed thoughtfully.

She hadn’t seen Emira nor Edric in two years. Not since they both moved out at seemingly the same time.

They’d definitely grown since they left, which is why Amity couldn’t recognize their voices at first.

The two of them definitely didn’t get less annoying though.

(If you’re the youngest sibling living with twins who are both older than you, you’d probably get Amity’s jist.)

But, even with all of their pretentious self-centeredness, Amity still missed their company.

That probably didn’t occur to the twins when she talked with them back in the kitchen. Amity knew they both weren’t the most observant people. (Meaning they wouldn’t have known Amity’d missed them unless she gave explicit hints to them.)

But maybe that’s a good thing. If the twins knew Amity’d missed them, they’d tease her about it to hell and back.

Not that they both don’t already have things to hold over her head.

Amity grumbled. _Pointespella._

But alas, there’s never enough time for reminiscing on old memories.

The traffic block shifted, and Amity snapped out of her daze, putting a strong foot on the gas pedal and gripping the steering wheel.

The cars gradually started to move after god knows how long, and the Chevrolet jerked forward.

The blinking lights of the city gradually became closer and closer, as Amity sped the car off of the bridge.

_Patience,_ Amity thought. _This city takes a LOT of patience._

—

Amity tapped the coordinates to the nearest Office Depot into Google Maps.

Her phone, which sat in a cup holder, blinked, and the coordinates popped up on the screen.

_5 minutes to your destination: Office Depot, 295 Glandis Avenue._

_In 7 feet, make a turn left._

Amity focused on the road.

By now, the rain from earlier had started to turn into little flurries of frost, sprinkling onto the pavement and buildings like a blanket of powdered sugar.

The sky had turned a dark blue by now, and the apartments that were littered throughout the city had their porch lights on.

_No wonder Christmas music is playing already. It’s already snowing, so why not bring out all of the overpriced joy early?_

Amity huffed and lifted her foot slightly off of the gas pedal.

_Turn left,_ the phone chimed.

Amity steered the wheel left, running a good bit into a rain puddle, sloshing some of it onto the sidewalk.

_You have reached your destination,_ the phone chimed again.

The car pulled into the Office Depot parking lot. Funny enough, even though it was in the dead of September, the lot was fairly empty. Amity squinted.

She pulled into a parking spot and took her foot off of the gas, and putting her hand on the key in the ignition.

But instead of drawing it out, Amity studied the front entrance of the store

_Fall Sale! 50% off all school supplies!_

_Then why isn’t anyone here?_ She thought, finally jerking the key out of the ignition and throwing the otter-themed yoga bag that was placed in the passenger’s seat over her shoulder.

Amity opened the car door, grabbing her phone from the cup holder and stepping out of the car.

She positioned the otter bag on the roof of the car, and looked at the phone in her hand.

The screen blinked. The ‘Destination Arrival’ message was still on it.

Amity sighed.

_Maybe this won’t hurt._

Her thumb pressed the home button, and slid over to the Contacts app.

Her eyes scanned the names listed on the tabs.

_Birther (Mom),_

_Other Birther (Dad),_

_Parasite 1 (Edric),_

_Parasite 2 (Emira),_

Until her eyes reached the tab labeled _Contact 562-8964._

Her finger shakily tapped on the tab, opening up all of the messages Luz had sent her, not one had Amity responded to yet.

Amity sighed, and typed a message, her fingers running across the keys, her mind searching for the right words to say.

After a little bit of typing, she sent the message.

_“hey! i’m currently getting some of the supplies we’ll need for the workshop. see you on thursday! :)”_

_A smiley face?_

_God, I’m so fucking lame._

Amity mumbled, shutting off her phone, and slinging the otter bag over her shoulder.

She closed the driver seat’s door, and started walking across the parking lot to the entrance of the Office Depot.

—

_Cold, dry, smells like permanent markers and failed expectations._

Amity studied the inside of the Office Depot. She hadn’t stepped two feet inside and she was already familiar with this place.

She checked her phone’s notes again, carefully examining the grocery list her had.

_Spiral notebooks._

_Sharpies._

_Pencils, erasers._

Amity didn’t have the heart to sacrifice any of the dozens of notebooks she’d reserved for drawing.

She looked around the store, and spotted the paper aisle.

Amity sauntered towards it (It was all the way in the back of the store), and as she was walking, the signature smell she’d already marked in her brain grew stronger. Not only that, but newer, more sharp wafts started to surround her.

It was comparable to a symphony. At first, it starts slow, and soft. But the longer it continues the stronger and faster it gets, and the more instruments get thrown in.

Amity winced, trying to keep the curling of her lip to a minimum.

The stench of scented markers, watercolor pencils, pencil sharpeners, sticky tape..

..all of it was like drowning in an ocean of office-themed commodities.

Amity sucked in her breath and peeped her head into the paper aisle.

_Bingo._

She ran her fingers experimentally along the metal shelf railings, eyes searching for the journals.

She spotted one, and picked it up.

It was a glittery pink journal, with a gel-and-sequin-filled unicorn head on it. It’s the kind of product that would tickle the fancy of an 11-year-old girl.

Amity chuckled.

“Fuck yeah, that’s the unicorn journal for me!” She shouted sarcastically, shoving the journal in her otter bag.

Amity was almost sure people were staring at her, but again, virtually no one was in this cesspool of staplewares.

She cruised around the aisle, picking up a few other journals, mostly white and black.

After that, she perused around the pencil aisle, taking a few good quality mechanical pencils. Amity’s always had an affinity for those, considering instead of using a pencil sharpener to renew her lead point, all she’d have to do is click the tip of the eraser for a new point.

There was probably a whole boxful of extra lead and erasers that was hanging up near the front of the store, Amity guessed.

And she was right.

Amity stood awkwardly at the checkout aisle, examining the items on the shelf.

Erasers and leads were on display like candy, stacked neatly in colorful boxes on the shelf. Amity groaned.

_Why would something as joyful as you be in this hellhole?_

Amity reached for a packed of erasers, just as a display of sharpies caught her eye.

The sharpie markers were stacked like lollipops on a colorful display stand, with stickers on them labelling “Half off”.

“You’re kidding me,” Amity muttered, and grabbed a few of the sharpies along with the erasers.

“Ma’am, your total is 20.48.” The cashier said, sliding the journals and packs of mechanical pencils into the finished slot.

“Can you add these to my bill?” Amity asked, handing over the sharpies and erasers.

“Sure thing, miss.” The cashier replied, death in their eyes.

Amity blinked in pity for this person. Of course, they were just doing their job, but who’d wanna be working at this miserable place?

“That’s 4.59 extra, miss.” The cashier said, after scanning the items.

Amity handed her what she estimated was about 27 dollars. _How long has it even been since I’ve actually drawn cash before?_ She thought, fumbling through her wallet.

“Keep the change,” Amity said, placing the cash down onto the counter and stuffing her items into the otter bag.

Amity didn’t wanna spend another moment in this place, that’s for sure. She slung the bag over her shoulder and made a run for the entrance, leaving the cashier staring blankly at a wad of cash.

_Ugh, it’s already snowing hard. Just my luck._ Amity grumbled, kicking through the snow and ripping open her car door, sliding into her seat.

She jammed her key in the ignition and shut the door, just as another gust of wind blew against her windows.

Amity breathed a sigh of relief and rubbed her hands on the frigid steering wheel, breathing in the slightly warm air coming out of the heater.

She didn’t even bother pulling out a map again. She could probably remember the way back to the manor.

Amity smiled and sighed, setting the car in reverse, and then putting a foot on the gas pedal, driving out of the parking lot.

Everything’s nice, and somewhat toasty, and warm, and—

_Fuck, is that Mariah Carey?_

Amity groaned, forgetting she’d turned on the Christmas music station.

Her hand dialed to the next station, where the soft swoons of Mexican music filled the car again.

“Better,” She said, laying back in her seat calmly, cruising back to the development, fingers tapping to the rhythm of the song.

—

The Chevrolet came to a stop on the stone pathway of Blight Manor.

The garden and porch lights were already on by now, and snow had coated the majority of the topiaries and plants out in the front. Small flurries of snow were still falling and covering the lot.

Amity took the key out of the ignition and stepped out of the car, otter bag still on her shoulder.

She breathed a sigh of relief, and shut the door, walking the path to the house.

Amity opened the front door and peeped inside the manor.

The lights were off, she noted, but the TV in the den was still reflecting on the wall, which meant either one of the twins were still up by now.

Amity carefully and quietly closed the door, shaking off her snow-coated boots and coat.

She stretched, and wandered into the kitchen, curious to see what mess Emira and Edric had made for dinner.

Amity spotted a large pot on the stove. There was a lid over it, which was catching steam coming from the pot.

That didn’t stop the smell from wafting out of the pot, however.

Amity sniffed the air experimentally.

_It smells…. good?_

The contents in the pot actually smelled quite edible. Not just edible though. Delicious, delightful, a tinge to one’s sense, if you wanna get fancy.

Amity lifted the lid off of the pot, and stuck a hand in it, unfazed by how hot the stew was.

She drew her hand from the pot and licked her finger, a surprised smile spreading across her face.

A minute later, she came back with a bowl from the pantry, and dipped it in the pot, filling the container with a pool of broth and roasted chicken and asparagus.

She took a soup ladle lying next to the pot (Okay, maybe with a little concern for what was on it) and dipped it in the bowl, bringing the ladle to her mouth and taking a long drawn sip.

_I’m—Okay, fine, I’ll admit it, maybe Emira and Edric do know how to cook._

Amity smiled thoughtfully, sipping the rest of her bowl down and leaning against the countertop.

What felt like 5 minutes later, Amity pushed the empty bowl into the sink and stretched.

“Damn, that food made more tired than I already am,” Amity yawned, shutting her eyes and sighing.

Amity started to make her way to the stairwell, when she thought—

_Maybe I should thank Em and Ed for making this. It was really good._

Amity walked over to the den on the right side of the house, where the TV was still blaring noise.

She peeped her head over the wall and at the couch, where she heard snoring coming from.

Amity smiled, and crept over to the couch, leaning over it and staring at Em and Ed.

They were both passed out by now, entangled in a blanket that, from the looks of it, looked like they were both fighting over earlier.

Amity stared at the TV. A ghost-hunting show was on.

She rolled her eyes. “You two idiots are gonna have nightmares about this shit,” She whispered, grabbing the remote and switching off the TV.

Amity ran a hand over the fabric couch, running her hand through each and every crevice. “And, thanks, you two. For, you know, making such a good meal. I mean, you’re asleep right now, but, thanks anyways.” She whispered, lifting herself off of the couch and walking back to the stairwell.

Once she was out of earshot and up the stairs, Emira flickered her eyes open.

“See? I told you it’d work,” She whispered in a matter-of-fact attitude.

“Fine. You get 20 dollars, fair and square. But swear on my words, I’m winning the bet next time.” Edric replied.

“Oh, as if you could do better at cheering Amity up. We both know she likes me better,” Emira retorted.

“Just because you’re her favorite doesn’t mean I can’t try.” Edric smirked.

“Sure, fine. But remember, we’re only doing this to cheer Amity up. We shouldn’t bet money out of it.” Emira replied, sighing. “Isn’t that one of the main reasons we came back here for this job? To see our sis?”

“You make a good point, Em. In all honesty, I’m really worried about her. She was already taking longer naps and skipping meals when we left, who knows how much worse she got?” Edric said, with almost a whimper in his tone.

“Trust me, Ed, she’ll be alright. We just gotta help her. Amity’s strong, you know. I know she’ll push through _whatever this is.”_ Emira replied, obviously trying to dance around a sensitive topic.

“Yeah. I hope. Now if you don’t mind me, I’m gonna pass out for real this time.” Edric snorted, diving under the blankets again.

“Same thoughts here,” Emira replied, doing the same.

—

Amity opened up the door to her room, and fell on her bed.

She opened her phone, light shining in her face.

_8:45 PM. Sep 13th._

A notification popped up on her screen.

_New text from: Contact 562-8964._

Amity smiled, and opened up the Contacts app.

There laid her message from earlier, but a new message was shown below it.

_“That’s great! I hope this snow will clear up soon, I kinda had a special place in mind where we could hold the workshop. Well, seeya then I guess! :D”_

Amity nearly burst out laughing at the sheer happiness that message contained.

She rolled her eyes, and texted back: _“seeya then i guess too, luz.”_

Amity shut her phone off and put it on her dresser, shifting under the covers of her bed.

She could hear the gentle pitter-patter of rain against the roof.

It created a lovely rhythm, a melodica of sorts, lulling Amity to sleep.

_Four days._

_Seeya then, Luz._

**——————————————————————————————————————————**

Amity clamored down the stairs, otter bag and all.

“Fuck! Shit! I’m gonna be late!” She shouted, leaping onto the marble steps of the manor, and dashing towards the door.

“Watch your profanity,” Edric warned, lifting up a spoon. He was cooking something, at least that’s what Amity could make out in her rush.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Amity huffed, throwing on her boots and jacket. She tightened a scarf around her neck, ensuring she probably wouldn’t freeze her noze off.

“Where are you going in a rush?” Emira asked, shutting the freezer door closed.

“Somewhere that’s for me to know, and you to find out,” Amity grumbled, throwing open the manor door. “I’m not going to be back until late, so don’t even bother waiting up for me.”

Emira and Edric both shrugged, as Amity closed the door.

“Guess we’ll just have to find out then,” Edric said.

—

Amity threw open her car door and slung the otter bag into the passenger’s seat, sliding into the chair and jamming her key in the ignition.

She shut the door and breathed in, phone in her hand.

She double checked the address of the location Luz had sent her for their workshop.

Amity tapped the coordinates of the location into Google Maps.

_Goldenhill Park._

_It’s a little up in the hills, but I could probably make it if I drive off now._

Amity set her phone in the cup holder again and put her hands on the wheel, lifting a foot onto the gas pedal.

She stepped on it, and slowly started to ease her way out of the stone driveway of the manor.

Amity looked at the ground.

_Boy am I glad that snow melted._

She pressed the pedal even harder, sliding out of the driveway and onto the road leading out of the development.

—

After what felt like a good 20 minutes of driving, Amity finally pulled into a gravel-filled area where a bunch of other cars were.

She grabbed the otter bag, and slung it over her shoulder, taking the key out of the ignition.

Amity took her phone in her hand and opened the contacts app, sifting through until she found Luz’s number.

_"hey, i’m at the park, where are you?"_

Amity typed. She didn’t have to wait long for a response.

_"I’m in the parking lot. Look for the busted-up Sedan."_

Amity shut off her phone and opened up her car door, stepping out and studying the cars in the parking lot.

_A Jeep, a Ford, a Sonata, a Sienna—_

And there was the Sedan. Luz definitely wasn’t kidding when she said it was banged up. The truck, a color of black, had dirt and dents all over it. Amity wasn’t an expert on cars, but she definitely could tell that truck at least needed a wash.

And, speaking of Luz, she was leaning against the back of the truck, eyes glued to her phone.

She looked up and waved to Amity.

Amity rolled her eyes and grabbed the otter bag and her phone, shutting the car door. She walked over to where Luz was.

“Sorry I’m a bit late, I just had some trouble finding things.” Amity said, smiling awkwardly. She didn't wanna tell Luz that she had a problem finding the otter bag full of writing supplies (Which, as it turns out, was hanging around her room's doorknob all along.)

“Nah, it’s fine. So, I assume you got some stuff for the workshop?” Luz asked, putting her phone in her denim jacket’s pocket. She had a cozy looking dark blue knitted sweater on, with a pair constellation-covered leggings slightly covered by the same pair of leather boots she had on the last time Amity saw her.

She’d also exchanged out her beanie for a simple bun to hold her brown flowing hair.

And Amity had to manually restrain herself from laughing at those cat-eared earmuffs Luz was wearing.

“O-oh, yeah, journals, sharpies, pencils, you know.” Amity replied, giving the otter bag a little shake.

“I like your bag. Can I keep it?” Luz asked half-smugly.

“Perhaps. What did you bring?” Amity asked back, with the same level of smugness in her voice.

“Well, I brought my laptop, and a few erasers. It’s not much, seeing as you got the majority of the stuff we needed.” Luz replied, shifting a bookbag off of her shoulders.

Amity tried to keep her wincing to a minimum. Luz was right, of course, but Amity didn't have the heart to tell her it was a nightmare getting all of those things.

She cleared her throat.

“Well, aren’t you gonna show me where we’re sitting? I’ve never been to this park before, you know.” Amity said, putting her hands on her hips.

“I can’t believe you’ve never been to Goldenhill before. Here, just—“ —Luz said, grabbing Amity’s hand—“Come on.”

Amity rolled her eyes and grumbled. She didn’t want to remind Luz that physical contact was off limits.

Luz ran into the park, and Amity followed.

“I used to come here all the time when I was a kid with my mom. We’d play in the fields or on the playground for hours, or maybe even take a walk on the trails leading down the cliffside.” Luz said, pointing to the playground, where a dozen or so kids were jumping down the slides or swinging on the swings.

Amity looked around the park. Golden and red trees scattered the park, aswell as benches and stone paths. Some of the paths filtered deeper into the woods. _That’s where the nature trails are,_ she thought.

“Of course, you have the benches and the party gazebos, but those aren’t my favorite part.” Luz continued.

“What, you have a favorite part of this place? What are you, 11?” Amity retorted.

“No, I just enjoy things. I bet you wouldn’t know what that feels like, though.” Luz responded smugly, but Amity felt in her heart that there was some seriousness behind those words. Even with how much Luz was smiling, Amity could tell her remark had hurted her.

Amity cleared her throat. “Well, anyways, show me what it is. You know, your favorite part of this place.” She said, obviously trying to change the subject.

Luz continued, but Amity could still feel some shred of hurt from the way Luz continued looking at her. “Alright then, come on. It looks amazing at sunset.”

Amity had no choice but to follow, because of Luz’s iron grip on her arm.

—

“Here we are! The edge of Goldenhill park! Looks amazing, doesn’t it?” Luz said excitedly, waving her arms in the air proudly.

_Alright,_ Amity admitted to herself. _Maybe this is my favorite part too._

Amity looked around, stunned by all of the golden trees that lined the clearing in front of her.

Fields of golden grasses sprawled out all the way to the edge of the hill. Wooden benches and tables were scattered across some parts of the clearing, but there weren’t many.

What astonished Amity the most was the view from the hill’s edge.

Luz was right. This place did look the best in sunset.

The sunset’s rays reflected off the city, giving it a dazzling glow. It wasn’t just the city though. The suspension bridge connecting the city and the development, the huge lake—It was all visible from here.

Amity let out an awestruck gasp.

“Shocked, aren’t you?” Luz said, and Amity could physically feel that remark she made earlier biting her in the ass.

“Maybe a little,” Amity teased.

“Well, if you’re done gasping, we’ve got work to do.” Luz said, plopping down on an empty bench and slinging her bookbag onto the table.

Amity slid in to the bench adjacent to her, and did the same with her otter bag.

“So. Since this is our first workshop, I’m thinking that before we get into anything serious, we should start brainstorming.” Luz started off, digging out her Macbook and a few journals.

Amity nodded, glad that at least Luz knew what she was doing.

“First steps first. We need a name for our novel, and a genre. Now, I’ve compiled some genres we could choose from somewhere, just let me find ‘em—“ Luz said, digging through her journal pile.

“Uhh…” Amity said, staring at Luz digging through her books.

“Now hold on a second, I got it, I got it..” Luz replied, digging deeper into her bag. “I found it!”

Amity breathed a sigh of relief.

“Okay.” Luz said, flipping open the journal. “We’ve got fantasy, medieval, sci-fi, mystery, horror--“

“I like horror, let’s do horror.” Amity said.

Luz blinked. “I wasn’t done yet.”

“Right, um, sorry, continue.” Amity replied.

“Action, drama, thriller, comedy—“

“Ooh, how about a horror comedy?” Amity said.

“Jesus frick, Amity, will you please let me finish?” Luz snorted, glaring at Amity.

“I just thought a horror comedy sounded nice.” Amity replied.

“You know, maybe that’s not such a bad idea.” Luz said thoughtfully, turning over to her Mac, and opening it up.

“Horror…comedy. There. Anything else?” Luz asked once she was finished typing on her computer.

Amity was too dazed to respond.

Her eyes were focused on Luz’s computer, specifically on the sheer number of things there were on it.

“Uhh… what’s Fantasy Costco?” Amity asked.

“Oh, I see you’ve caught eye of one of my computer's decorations.” Luz said, sounding very sure of herself. “It’s from something I listen to.”

Amity’s gaze drifted to the dozens of kitten stickers on Luz’s computer, then finally—

All the pride flags.

Amity bit her tongue slightly. (Okay, maybe not slightly. She was visually restraining herself from blushing out of straight-up embarrassment.)

“Uh… Amity?” Luz asked, peering at the expression Amity had shown.

“You, um, you sure have a lot of stickers..” Amity choked out.

Luz then got it. Her face kind of turned red too.

“Yeah, I mean—It’s just, you know—“ Luz replied, struggling to form any coherent sentence.

Amity wanted to hide her face right then and there.

Truth be told, she’s seen pride flags before. A lot, actually. (Mostly on the internet.) And she even knew what the ones on Luz’s laptop were for.

The bi flag was definitely the one that stood out the most. Next to it being the ace and non-binary flags.

But what made her embarrassed wasn’t the fact that Luz had them, but why she would display stuff like that so openly.

Fuck, Amity didn’t know. She didn’t know how other people’s lives worked. Maybe it’s because her conservative-ass parents wouldn’t allow her to see those kinds of lives. Stuff like that was kind of… taboo in the Blight household.

That’s why Amity never really wanted to open up about it or question it. No one would be able to help her find out what she wanted to. And exploring her identity was pretty much out of the question. Always has been. Pointespella proved that—

Amity cleared her throat before the thick tension between her and Luz could get any thicker. “Right, um, sorry. It’s just—I don’t usually see people displaying stuff like—you know, that. Not that I’m—not that I’m judging or anything.” Amity awkwardly choked out.

“It’s fine. I get comments like that all the time. I’ve kinda gotten used to them by now.” Luz replied, and for once her voice didn’t sound happy or hurt. It sounded more distant and reflective.

Amity curled her fingers inward into fists and looked down. “So, er, what else do you think we should do for the genre of the book?” She said.

Luz looked back at her computer. “You know, how about we make this G rated?” She said thoughtfully.

“G rated? You mean for kids?” Amity asked half-confusedly.

“Well, yeah. I’ve kinda always had this weird love for cartoons and, you know, animated movies. Somehow all of the most amazing and hilarious tropes get blended in to create an amazing show with a wonderful dynamic. I think we could, I don’t know, get that idea onto paper.” Luz said, typing like a maniac on her keyboard.

“That sounds nice. Like, um, and the horror concepts could maybe grow better—and the worldbuilding, the plot—ugh, I don’t even know what I’m saying that this point.” Amity stopped herself, sighing. She put her head in her hands.

“No, no, keep talking. You’ve got a pretty good start. What was it that Mr. DePlume said? ‘Be creative?’” Luz responded, tilting her head from computer, trying to motivate Amity.

“Pfft, I forgot he’d even said that. If I’m gonna be honest, I forgot most of that class.” Amity responded.

Luz rolled her eyes. “All I’m saying is that creative writing can really push you forward in letting out your ideas. You’ve got so many good things to say, Amity. You just need a way to let them out, that’s all.”

Amity lifted her head up from her hands and sat upright.

“Creative writing? I’m not even good at being creative, nevermind writing!” Amity said, crossing her arms.

“It’s not about whether you write, really. Being creative is just letting your thoughts out.” Luz replied, probably thinking that this would take a while.

And so she was right.

Amity sighed, eyeing her otter bag. “I mean, I could help you with your writing, but I’m primarily good at drawing. So, sure, maybe I don’t have to write, but I’d at least like to draw.”

“That’s great, as long as you’re trying to let your thoughts out somewhat. Plus, it’ll make for some sweet concept art.” Luz replied, peering back at her computer.

“What’s with the confidence in my art skills, Luz? You’ve never seen anything of what I’ve drawn.” Amity smirked.

“I just know, Amity. I get the feeling you’re pretty good at what you put your mind to. After all, I did say you had a pretty good start.” Luz responded as she typed.

Amity felt a soft rosy blush creep up her cheeks. “Thanks, I guess.” She said.

“Now, we’ve got a genre, we just need a name. Any suggestions?” Luz asked, peering back at Amity.

Amity snapped out of her slight daze. “Right. Um, well, what advice would you usually have for coming up with names? I’ve kinda got nothing.”

“Well, it’s gonna be something quirky, or interesting sounding. Like, uh, The Island of Ice?” Luz responded.

“That doesn’t sound quirky or interesting,” Amity remarked.

Luz thought for a moment.

“Hey, Amity, have you ever tried birdwatching before?” Luz asked, typing on her keyboard.

“I’ve heard about it, but I’ve never tried it.” Amity replied.

“Okay, well, basically, you watch birds. It’s kind of like watching different groups of people socialize and mingle and travel, but, you know, with feathery creatures.” Luz explained.

“And?” Amity asked.

“And,” Luz continued, “I remember going birdwatching at a farm once, and I saw this whole family of barn owls cooped together on the roof columns. But, like, none of them looked like they were from the same family. So I went up to the owner of the farm and asked them if those birds were related through any blood lineage. He said that none of those birds were actually related. Turns out, they all just flew into this nest. It didn’t matter if it was cold, or raining, or snowing, but those birds stuck together through it all. And none of them were even related!”

“That sounds adorable, but what’s your point?” Amity asked impatiently.

“My point is, is that we should make this a show about owls!” Luz clapped her hands together excitedly.

Amity blinked.

“How the fresh fuck are we going to make barn owls interesting?”

“That’s where the fun part comes in,” Luz replied. “The birds are the interesting part. They’re secretly demons and eldritch horrors.” She clapped her hands together and smiled.

“Look, Luz, no offense, but I’m kinda-sorta terrible at drawing owls. Birds in general.” Amity deadpanned.

“Mmh, okay, sour-puss. So how about this. There’s owls, but it’s a—“ Luz looked around, catching sight of a structure that some kids on a field trip were putting together. It looked vaguely like a birdhouse. “How about a house?”

“A what now?” Amity asked.

“A house. An owl house. Like, you know—“ Luz turned back to her computer, typing like a maniac again. “The Owl House! Heck yeah!”

Amity pinched the bridge of her nose. “You’re kidding me. That’s got to be the vaguest name ever. Why would an owl even be a house—“

“—Nope. No-no-nope. I’m brainstorming. Uhhhh—It’s Hooty! The house’s name is Hooty, and he’s an owl.” Luz said, putting a finger to her head.

“Hooty? Jesus fuck.” Amity groaned.

“Look, are you going to contribute to this fantastic, wonderful idea, or are you gonna sit there massaging your forehead?” Luz asked.

“Fine. This house takes place in a magical realm, far, far away, just like hell. The sea’s rotten and everyone fucking hates it. Monsters are everywhere, people get ripped to shreds every second, and—hey, wait, are you typing all of this?” Amity asked, peering up.

“Yep. This is genius. Go on,” Luz said, without giving a glance to Amity’s slightly shocked expression.

Amity smiled thoughtfully. “Alright. It’s ruled by this one guy, I’ll call him Loudmouth, he wears a mask. He lives in a castle, prefferrably the spooky and ominous kind, and he has a cult. Oh, and there’s this one ratlegged chick by his side all the fucking time.”

“Ooh, maybe his name could be something like Bellows, cause, y’know, loud.” Luz replied.

“And there’s this city. Let’s give it a generic name, like, I dunno, Bonesborough?” Amity asked.

“Pfft, you know what? I’m putting that in.” Luz said.

“On the edge of town on a hill near the acid sea, there’s a house, and it’s haunted by— Hooty was it? Anyways, he’s a crazy straw now, he can kick anyone’s ass, and he’s suuuuper fucking annoying.” Amity said proudly.

“Er, got anything else?” Luz peeked her head up at the fact that Amity stopped talking.

“Well, do you have a protagonist?” Amity asked, lifting an eyebrow.

Luz pushed her computer out of the way. “Well, I kinda do, but it’s sorta super embarrassing and I know you don’t wanna hear it—“

“Well, tell me who they are.” Amity asked. (Not really asked, but more like demanded.)

Luz rolled her eyes. “It’s me. I’m the protagonist.”

“You just love self-inserting, don’t you?” Amity joked.

“It just feels right. I mean, think about it, Amity. I don’t really fit in at school, I’ve always dreamed of going to some fantasy world, and I’m a huge fan of horror. How much more perfect can that get?” Luz replied.

“Well, that’s amazing, but I don’t think a senior in high school would relate to that many preteens.” Amity retorted.

“That’s why I’m using my 14-year-old self as a base. God, you know, I can’t even believe how fricking preachy and optimistic I was as a teenager.” Luz rolled her eyes and continued typing on her keyboard.

“If we’re doing self-inserts, I’d like to be in the story too, you know.” Amity smirked, leaning against the table.

“Well, of course I was thinking that too. And I was also gonna add my other friends, Willow and Gus. I don’t know how I’d fit you into the story though.” Luz responded, peering out from the computer and smiling.

_‘Other friends?’_

_Don’t tell me she already thinks I’m her friend._

“Willow and Gus?” Amity asked.

Luz’s face lit up. “Oh yeah! You haven’t met them yet. Maybe, at some point I could set up a meet at a restaurant so that you could meet them—“

“Look, Luz. As nice as that would be, I don’t exactly consider you my friend yet. We’re only working on this project together, nothing else. Got it?” Amity said, her smirk disappearing off of her face.

“Oh. Sorry.” Luz said, slunking back into the bench, the happy expression fading off of her face and the spark leaving her eyes.

Amity immediately felt guilty for saying that.

An awkward silence fell between the two.

“So, er, I guess maybe that concludes this workshop,” Luz said, after a while.

“Maybe,” Amity replied, keeping track of how the sun had almost fully set by now.

“I guess I’ll see you at school tomorrow,” Luz sighed, stuffing her computer and journals into her bookbag. Something red and round fell out of the bag and onto the table.

“Hey, what’s this?” Amity asked, picking up what looked like a sphere-like red button, with the words “Easy” ingrained on the top.

“Oh.” Luz smirked. “Hey Amity, quick question. How did you feel about managing the worldbuilding of the story?” She asked.

Amity looked up and Luz, who was gesturing her to press the button.

Amity slid her thumb onto it, and a voice chimed out of the button.

_That was easy,_ it chimed.

“I fucking hate you,” Amity muttered.

“I highly doubt that,” Luz responded.

And Luz was right, for the third time in a row.

Amity didn’t completely despise Luz.

Of course, she did think she was annoying a fair bit, but beneath all of that—

—Amity couldn’t call herself and Luz friends. Not yet, at least. Not until—

Amity looked at the otter bag.

—Not until one of them makes a move.

Amity emptied the contents out of the otter bag and onto the picnic table, ignorant to Luz watching her confusedly.

“So, about what I said earlier—“ Amity started, giving Luz a fond glance, “—Look, I don’t know if we _are_ friends yet. I mean, first and foremost, you’re my writing partner. I knew almost nothing about you until today. I kinda hated you at first to be honest.” Amity sighed, holding the bag in her hands.

“But now, maybe—maybe you’re not so bad.” Amity said, giving Luz the otter bag. “This is for you, if you want it.”

Luz looked at the bag for a second, then smiled.

“Thanks, Amity. Maybe you’re not such a bad person either.” Luz said, happily taking the otter bag in her hands.

Amity picked up all of her journals and pencils, struggling to carry them without a bag.

“Are you sure you don’t need help with that?” Luz winced, staring at the load Amity had to carry.

“Nah, I’m fine. See you tomorrow, I guess?” Amity yelled back, already running back to the parking lot.

“Seeya tomorrow!” Luz shouted back, waving her hands in the air.

Amity smirked to herself, opening her car door and throwing the journals in.

She jammed her key in the ignition, but before sliding in her seat and closing the door, she glanced one last time at the busted-up Sedan parked across the lot.

Luz was leaning on the passenger seat doorframe, trying to organize her load from her bookbag to the otter bag.

Amity waved at Luz. “Hey! When do you wanna have the next workshop?” She yelled.

Luz looked back at Amity. “Whaddya say about three weeks from now?”

“Sounds great!” Amity yelled back, jumping into her car seat and shutting the door.

Of course the station was switched to Christmas music. But at this point, it felt like white noise instead of ear-melting songs about people wanting to kiss reindeers or some shit.

Amity lifted her gaze at her windshield, which had golden and red leaves littered across it.

_That’s the wind’s problem,_ Amity thought, putting a hand on the wheel and one on the reverse switch, pulling it, and moving the car backwards, before stepping her foot on the gas pedal and steering away.

—

It was already nighttime by the time Amity pulled into the manor.

All of the lights were on in the house, signaling to Amity that _they’d_ probably been waiting for her to come back.

Amity pulled the key out of the ignition and stuffed it in her pocket, grabbing her journals from the passenger seat and opening the car door.

She closed the car door and walked to the house, journals in one hand, and turned the front door’s knob with her other free hand.

“Guys! I could use a little help here!” Amity shouted, struggling to carry the journals in her hands.

“Damn, you’re weak. These weigh like, what, 2 pounds? Weren’t you the captain of the football team at some point?” Edric asked, taking some of the journals in his hands.

Amity scoffed at that remark. “Did you ever consider the fact that maybe I’m tired?”

“Edric’s right. For whatever reason it is, we’ve noticed that your physical strength is definitely declining.” Emira stated, taking the rest of the journals out of Amity’s hands.

“Yeah, yeah, sure. Anything else?” Amity retorted.

“Well, we made dinner for you. And for us. It’s on the stove, if you want it.” Emira replied, pointing to the kitchen.

“Thanks, I guess.” Amity grumbled, walking over to the kitchen.

And of course it smelled fucking delicious again.

“By the way, Amity, you never answered our question from earlier. Where were you?” Emira asked, and Amity’s blood instantly ran cold.

“S-study. Bible study. Praise the—lord?” Amity winced, giving an awkward thumbs up.

Emira and Edric looked at each other for a second.

“You better not be hanging out with any cute girls,” Emira teased.

“Shut up, pisshat.” Amity hissed, cutting herself a slice of the—you know, she couldn’t really tell if it was a casserole or not. Smelled amazing as anything though, so she didn’t care.

“Oh, look at me, I have an unrequited crush on an adorable girl! Lesbianism time!” Edric joked terribly, waving his hands up in the air and making faces like a dumbass.

“Oh dear, oh my! I’m afraid I’ve been struck by the hard knife of an unrequited gay crush! What ever shall I do?” Emira mocked, fake-fainting onto the ground.

“Jesus fuck, you two are hopeless.” Amity grumbled as she took the plate of casserole and headed up the stairs to the bathroom.

“Hope you’re not planning to soak away your tiredness in three cheese casserole and rose bubble bath!” Emira yelled from the kitchen, Edric still wheezing behind her.

Amity rolled her eyes and huffed, opening the door to the bathroom that was connected to her room, and then locking it behind her.

Because that was _exactly_ what she was planning to do.

—

Amity had been lying face down in the tub for a while now.

(In all other terms, this was what the kids these days would call ‘vibing.’ Amity calls it ‘simulating loneliness.’ These things are not different.)

She lifted her head up out of the tub, and looked around the bathroom.

(Look, imagine an ordinary bathroom, in an ordinary house. Then make everything marble. Then put the fucking bathtub in the middle of the room, with all of the sinks and vanities surrounding it. Oh, and increase the shower’s size by 60%. Damn fucking rich people.)

Amity crossed her arms and sulked deeper into the lush bubbles, soaking her hair even more.

The casserole she’d brought with her into the bathroom had been eaten fully by now. Somehow, you can never drown out your sadness in enough dairy products.

Amity sighed, wet hair in her face, obscuring the view out the faucet in front of her. Like hell she wanted to get out of this tub any time soon. It was the only place in the house where she was sure she had privacy.

_Fuck it,_ She grumbled, and she reached for the fuzzy pink robe lying on the steps of the tub, when all of a sudden—

—Her phone lit up, and a notification popped up on the screen,

Amity perked up and reached for her phone, studying the notification closely.

_New message from Contact 562-8964._

Amity tapped on the link leading to the contacts app.

A new text from Luz had popped up on the screen.

_“Hey! How’s it going? I just got done baking a fresh batch of cookies. Not to make you hungry, or anything. :)”_

Amity rolled her eyes, and texted back.

_“i had a three cheese casserole that's probably better than that. try again, luz.”_

_“Oh, you did? That’s great! I kinda wish I could have anything dairy or cheese related, but I’m lactose intolerant. Woop woop.”_

Amity smiled.

_“well, if it makes you feel better, i could probably try and make a casserole that’s not cheese-related and bring it for the next workshop for you.”_

_“Really? That’d be great! Honestly, I’ve never had rich people food before, so that’ll be a nice change for once.”_

Amity rolled her eyes and scoffed.

_“rich people food. are u srs”_

_“Call it what you want, I’m calling it rich people food.”_

Amity let out a slight chuckle. _Damn, there really isn’t trying to change Luz’s opinion on food._

_“so wyd rn”_

_“Well, I just finished baking some cookies, So I’m kind of just chilling in my room, talking with you. How about you, Amity?”_

_“well, i was stress-eating and taking a rosy bubble bath, and i was just about to get out. hold on, just give me a second. i’ll be right back.”_

Amity smiled, placing her phone on the steps of the marble bathtub, and grabbing her fuzzy pink robe, finally having a good reason to get out of the bath.

A few minutes later, Amity stepped out of the bathroom, flicking on the white fairy lights strung around her room.

She plopped down onto her bed, but instead of instantly passing out, she opened her phone and immediately began texting Luz back.

_“hey, i’m out of the bath, if you wanted to talk more.”_

The gray circles indicated a typing response immediately appeared.

_“Great! The cookies just got done cooling off, and they are amazing! Maybe I could save one for you? :)”_

Amity grinned.

_“hell yeah! save me some of that shit!”_

A response popped up.

_“Glad you’re on board with that. So, you know, I was thinking, and after a few hours of mulling it over I think I’ve decided what I wanted to do for your character in TOH.”_

Amity raised an eyebrow.

_“go on.”_

_“Well, maybe I could make you my friend, but maybe after a little bit of development. Like, I dunno, maybe we initially don’t get along, but after a while you begrudgingly start to warm up to me?”_

_“that sounds hella familiar.”_

_“Should be. Anyways, I was thinking, Maybe there could be something that we both share a common interest in. By any chance, have you ever heard of Luzura?”_

_“isn’t she that lesbian alt artist that i’ve heard people talking abt?”_

_“Yep. I was thinking, maybe we could name a book after her in the series. I dunno, maybe something like The Good Witch Luzura?”_

_“lmao that sounds epic. so is this whole thing supposed to be based off of witches then”_

_“Yeah, I forgot to tell you. I was starting to develop some of the worldbuilding too, and I decided to make a race that’s kind of similar to humans, but with pointy ears and magical abilities. I call them witches.”_

_“can i be one of them? they sound cool”_

_“Already far ahead of you on that one. I made you, Willow, and Gus witches. Sound nice, hm?”_

_“fuck it i want fire powers”_

_“Boom. You got fire powers now.”_

Amity let out a chuckle and yawned, glancing at the clock on her dresser.

_10:29 PM._

She sighed, and texted one last message before she shut down her phone.

_“well, as much as i love talking to you, i kinda have to sleep soon. seeya tmr?”_

Amity waited for the goodbye text from Luz.

_“Seeya tomorrow. :)”_

_A smiley face._

_What a fucking weirdo._

Amity smiled, shutting off her phone and putting it on her dresser, pulling the covers over her head.

She smiled.

And for the first time in a long time, maybe she had a reason to smile herself to sleep, if that was even possible.

Amity didn’t know.

But she guessed she’d just have to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! gosh this took so long :eyes:
> 
> as always, feel free to leave a kudos and a comment if you liked this fic (if u comment ilysm <3)
> 
> and yeah follow me on tumbr for more gay sht https://elliestarss.tumblr.com
> 
> (next part comes out somewhere in february. wuagh :o) )


	3. we're not bruised, they're just party tattoos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "eighteen feeling" (chapter 3, episode 1/2 [aka wybsk ep 4]) - It's Amity's 18th birthday! But as joyful as that might sound, it's not that exciting. At least to Amity, whose birthday usually tends to end in disaster...
> 
> \--
> 
> "blood on the pavement" (chapter 3, episode 2/2 [aka wybsk ep 5]) - When a certain situation brews up between Luz and Amity, they both have to decide how to deal with it properly. Or, Amity learns what it really means to "see the good in people."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pLEASE the summary for these r so bad,,
> 
> i didnt mean for this chapter to be 20k long HELP ME
> 
> personally i feel like the last 2k of blood on the pavement is the better half because it involves a lot of introspection into the last chapters, and a better buildup for the chapters ahead. but that's up for personal interpretation :)
> 
> ao3's doing this funky thing where some of my notes don't show up at the end of the chapters so just in case here's my tumblr: https://elliestarss.tumblr.com 
> 
> enjoy! :o)
> 
> (also yes shhh i am going back over this and making small grammar edits. u didnt see anything :))

There’s some days you can’t erase.

There’s some moments you can’t simply reset, thing you can’t simply redo.

Today is supposed to be special to Amity.

It’s supposed to be her special day. The one day out of the whole year that’s special to her and her alone. So then, why does she want to reset it every time it happens?

Maybe it’s because she really did wake up on the wrong side of the bed. Maybe she did have her metaphorical and nonexistent feathers ruffled.

_18 years,_ Amity thought, _and I still don’t get it._

18 years as of today, to be precise.

-

The covers feel soft and warm and snuggly.

The sun is slowly rising above the horizon.

Which means, of course, it’s the start to a new day.

One which Amity has the least energy to process.

It isn’t that her emotional battery hasn’t run out, but that it’s never been charged.

I mean, that goes for any day, but this day most of all.

Amity groaned.

_Enough with the days._

She could already feel how hard this day would be on her.

She sighed, and started loosening the blanket’s grip.

_Just a few minutes longer, okay? If this is really the most special day of my life, I can’t be tired to experience it._

-

It’s not every day you turn 18.

To be truthful, you only turn any age once.

There are certain milestones in one’s life achieved at those ages.

At 16, you’re officially teenage scum.

At 21, you get to drink your pain away.

At 13, you’re an actual teen.

And.. 18?

18 years old marks 18 years on a hazy existence. And for any high schooler, it marks the end of senior year.

_Not much else besides that,_ Amity thought.

But birthdays never meant that much to her.

Actually, at some point, they probably did, but they’ve lost meaning.

Amity sighed.

They start to lose meaning after so many end in disaster.

_So... what makes this one different from the rest?_

_Nothing,_ Amity thought.

She tossed aside her blankets and stared up at the ceiling.

The morning light was shimmering through the windows.

Amity sighed, crossing her arms, sinking deeper into thought.

_I already know how this day will go. I’ll arrive at school, get cornered by my friends, get dragged to the mall where I’ll have to eat cheap food and buy overpriced clothes, and I’ll have to smile and nod when they ask if I’m having fun. Then, I’ll go home, and take a long fucking nap because I won’t have any energy to eat a cake. Same thing, different year. Always has been, always will be._

Amity grumbled.

_Fuck, just for once, I’d like to actually have fun._

_And I’m not even gazing at the shitshows that were my other birthdays._

Amity thought for a second.

_Hey, you know, maybe if I never get out of bed, I won’t have to go through today. I mean, is that a thing I can do? Skip my birthday? I mean, the people at school will probably be worried about me, but then again, when have they ever—_

“AAAAAAAMITY! YOUR BIRTHDAY BREAKFAST IS READY!”

Amity shot up and growled.

“YEAH, FUCK OFF! I’LL BE DOWN IN A MINUTE!” She yelled back, hopping off of the bed, her heart-print pajama pants swishing at her feet.

Amity grabbed her phone off of her desk and turned it on, her eyes scanning the screen.

_Wednesday, September 23rd, 2020_

_7:52 A.M._

Amity breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that no texts had popped up in her notifications. (Aside from Luz’s, of course. Why she kept texting about her day-to-day lifewas unbeknownst to Amity. Of course, Amity didn’t bother tapping the text notifications from her. That’s a problem for two weeks from now.)

She glanced at her “signature” wrinkled black sweatshirt and sneakers.

_It wouldn’t hurt to try something a little different today._

Amity threw open her closet (via the adrenaline of being able to indulge for once) and started throwing out shirts left and right.

It didn’t take long to find the perfect one. A pink-and-black plaid shirt that was just long enough to be tied at the torso, but only halfway.

Amity sniffed the shirt cautiously. She remembered buying the shirt from some farm’s merch shop when she was 14. It didn’t fit her now, in the full sense, but somehow, Amity decided to keep the shirt through all of these years anyway.

And, after a a change with a black tank top and some experimental ties with the shirt, she twirled around in the mirror.

It.. didn’t actually look that bad. Paired with one of those pairs of overly expensive ripped jeans from a signature label, the true potential of ‘what the fuck, I really did just dig this up from my closet’ shone through.

Amity looked around the room. Of course the outfit wasn’t done yet. She’d need a pair of—

Her eyes stopped on a pair of large brown leather boots on the floor.

A smirk spread across her face, and before you know it, she twirled around in the mirror again, a pair of leather boots on.

“Well, Luz, you dress like shit, but I guess you taught me something about fashion,” Amity said, playing with the diamond hoop earrings she’d put on.

“AMITY! COME ON, YOUR FOOD’S GONNA GET COLD!” Emira yelled from downstairs.

“WE MADE IT OURSELVES! I’VE NEVER COOKED A PANCAKE BEFORE, BUT I’M PRETTY SURE THEY’RE SUPPOSED TO BE BROWN!” Edric followed.

Amity sighed. Her outfit still wasn’t done yet. Her hair needed to be done.

She’d been wearing it in the exact same half-up hairstyle for years now. Of course, if she wanted her 18th of all things to be special, it was time to switch up the game.

Amity strolled up to her vanity and bunched her hair in her hands, gently stroking the mane of hair she had.

“Alright, you untamed nest of hair, I think it’s time you finally got what you had coming.” She said, digging out a matte brush and going to town with her hair.

*

A few minutes later, Amity stepped out of her room and shut the door behind her.

She adjusted the straps on her bookbag and started heading downstairs, black and pink visor slid over her hair.

Amity smoothed her shoes across the marble floor once she reached the bottom of the stairs, and started walking towards the kitchen, absolutely unprepared for what she was about to see.

Obviously, Emira and Edric had been preparing for Amity’s birthday. The entire dining table, all 10 feet of it, was lined with pink princess-like party decorations.

Balloons were tied around the chairs that lined the table, and on the mantle adjacent to the table hung a banner labeled “Happy Birthday, Amity!”

_Fuck._

Amity winced.

Emira came dancing out of the kitchen in an apron labeled “I don’t cook, I don’t clean, But let me tell you how I got this ring”. During these past few days, she’s become so accustomed to working in the kitchen, that she even dug out one of Mrs. Blight’s old aprons.

“Happy birthday! How’s it feel being 18?” Emira asked, setting another plate of waffles on the table.

And that’s when Amity noticed the unholy amount of food spread across the table.

Pancakes, waffles, crêpes, omelettes. (The omelettes, Amity noted, were in the shape of a unicorn’s head.)

“What, are you having guests over for this?” Amity asked.

“Nah. Me and Ed just got carried away.” Emira replied, smoothing over the pink tablecloth spread across the table. She turned her head over to the kitchen. “Hey, Ed! You done with the bacon?”

“It might be a bit burnt, but I think it tastes good. Uh-Happy birthday, Amity!” Edric said, strolling out of the kitchen, a tray of heart-shaped bacon in his hands.

“How long’d you two spend on this shit?” Amity asked, pointing a finger at the food on the table.

Emira winced subtly. “Subtly”, considering pretty much anyone could notice it.

“Well, we spent a good afternoon buying the party decorations, and maybe four hours on the food. And that’s just breakfast.” Emira said, smiling.

“You guys know I’m probably gonna get dragged to the mall food court anyways, right? Look, as soon as Boscha and company see me, they’re gonna beg me to go to the mall with them. Besides, I probably won’t even have an appetite when I get home.” Amity groaned, adjusting the visor hanging over her head.

“Just promise us you’ll eat the cake, okay?” Edric pleaded.

“Can’t promise anything.” Amity replied.

“At least eat some breakfast. I mean—me and Ed spent a long time on it.” Emira sighed, crossing her arms.

“I’m late anyways. Just—“—Amity reached over the table and grabbed a pancake—“Put it in the fridge for me. It looks—delicious.” She said, walking towards the door, pancake in her hand.

Amity turned around and looked at the party decorations again. “Why exactly did you go with this—theme?” She asked.

“We thought you might like it. You know, you used to love unicorns and all that fantasy stuff when you were a kid. You’d go nuts over it.” Emira replied, leaning on the table, looking back at Amity. “You’d love playing princess with the dresses Mom’d spoil you with, you’d love being saved by a dashing knight in shining armor.”

Amity huffed under her breath. _Not even a knight could save me now._

“Alright, so, what’s with the hair? You don’t usually go with—that.” Ed asked, lifting an eyebrow.

Amity nearly felt her face go red.

“Uh—um, you know, just felt like going with something different today. Can’t a girl make her eighteenth birthday special?” Amity replied jokingly.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s just—you know, you look so—different.” Emira replied.

“What, you miss the old me already? You want me to go back to dying my hair green and unironically liking Undertale?” Amity retorted.

“No, it’s just—you’ve grown up so fast. I—me and Em—we kinda feel like we didn’t get to see that much of you.” Edric sighed, walking up to Amity.

“And now? Well, you’re 18. You’re probably gonna be moving out soon. And—that’s gonna make all of us more far apart.” Emira said, walking over to Amity as well.

Amity felt her heart drop.

_So that’s what all this is for. This whole thing. The decorations, the food—_

_—If this is the last year that Ed and Em are gonna see me for for a long time, then it only makes sense that they’d want to get as much out of it as they could._

Amity smiled. “Can I ask you two something?”

“Sure.” Ed and Em replied.

“Let’s say that a brother and a sister live, I don’t know, countries away from each other. Does that make them any less related?” Amity asked.

“Well, no, not really.” Emira answered.

“See, sure, we might be miles apart by the time this year ends, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t ever gonna see each other again. We can still talk over calls, book planes to meet each other. I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty sure that I’ll still be your younger sister even when I’m miles apart from you guys.” Amity said, grinning.

“It’s like the corny bumper stickers say. Wasn’t it, like, Obama means Gmail?” Edric asked.

“Ohana means family, dipshit. Family means no one is left behind.” Emira retorted, smiling.

“Sibling hug?” Amity asked.

“Sibling hug.” Edric replied, and all three of them pulled each other in for a close hug.

Amity pulled away and cleared her throat, looking towards the door. “I’m probably late as shit.”

“You definitely are. But I think the principal might excuse you. They do that for birthdays.” Emira replied.

“Oh, give me a fucking break. Principal Bump doesn’t care for shit if it’s someone’s birthday. He’d assign a student english homework even if they had a broken arm.” Amity replied, throwing open the front door to the manor. “See you guys later!” She waved.

“Bye, Amity!” Emira and Edric waved back as Amity shut the door.

——-

Just like any normal day in fall, dead leaves blanketed the ground. They made a satisfying crunch underneath Amity’s boots as she walked from the parking lot to the school of Hexside.

Hexside High. A remarkably nice-looking building despite how long ago its conception was (and the fact that it was in one of the dirtiest cities in Illinois).

It was a large red brick building, with concrete steps sprawling out into a small park area covered in trees and benches.

Obviously, as the years passed by, the school got more miserable, inside and out. For starters, they removed the soda machine from the cafeteria. The school’s given excuse for removing it was ‘financial strain’, but everyone knew it was because if an order was typed in too fast, a can would shoot directly out of the glass cover of the machine. (Fortunately, this extremely profound experience only happened to one student.)

Of course, then there were the field’s swingsets. Apparently, some ballsy assholes wanted another way to hurt people other than gym dodgeball.

The art classes went next, then the tether balls, one by one until the only fun things left to do at Hexside were whiteboard washing and spraying unsuspecting idiots in the face with the hallway water fountain’s faucets.

Basically, all of the joy was sucked out of Hexside, and anyone could feel it throughout the school.

_Damn,_ Amity thought, _I really thought I was gonna live out my high school fantasy in this cesspool of despair._

Amity sighed and started walking up the concrete steps to the front doors of Hexside.

The air outside was chilly, perfect weather for feeling the burning gaze of other people.

Amity shrugged off the absolutely right feeling that people were staring at her, and walked through the front doors of Hexside.

*

As expected, people were still staring and whispering about Amity as she walked in through the doors of Hexside.

It probably had something to do with (A) it’s Amity’s birthday, (B) it’s her birthday outfit, or (C) (the winner of probably the most obvious answer) it was her hairstyle.

Everyone was staring, whispering, pointing at Amity’s hairstyle.

As if Em and Ed didn’t make a big deal of it already.

Amity rubbed the lower part of her hair, feeling the soft tinge of the undercut she was openly displaying for the entire world to see.

You know, the one she’d been keeping up with as long as she’d been dyeing her hair. _You know, the one Hexside’s never seen before._

Amity ignored the stares and kept speedwalking to class. _If I’m lucky, I’ll make it there in the middle of homeroom, where everyone will not only stare at me because I’m late, but because it’s my birthday._

In fact, Amity was walking so fast, she didn’t even notice that Luz had awkwardly waved to her.

“Hey Ami—uh—bye?” Luz said, watching Amity roll right past her.

_Nope, that’s gonna have to wait two weeks,_ Amity thought, noticing that she had passed by Luz.

Of course, she’d have to overcome the obstacle that was today first.

-

Amity burst into homeroom with no time to spare.

The class pet was in the middle of handing out worksheets to the class.

_So I’m early,_ Amity thought.

She sighed a breath of relief.

“Mrs. Blight, may I ask, why are you late?” The teacher crooned.

“C-car troubles.” Amity lied, panting heavily.

“Right. And, the class and I would like to say something to you.” The teacher continued.

Amity perked her head up.

“Happy birthday, Amity!” The students shouted with unapologetic reluctancy, as if they were being forced to do this against their own will.

_They probably were,_ Amity thought.

“Uh.. thanks? You kind of didn’t need to do that.” Amity said, looking at the class as they pitifully sank back down into their chairs.

“Well, it’s our top student’s birthday! Why wouldn’t we?” The teacher asked, a grin on his face.

_Since when has this school ever given a shit about me?_ Amity almost said, but held herself back.

“Thanks, anyways. Uh, could I get one of those worksheets?” Amity asked.

She slid down into her usual desk and watched as the class pet slid a paper full of math problems across it.

“Happy birthday,” They whispered, before they slid back into their own chair.

“Now, class, I’d like to put up an example of what we’re going to be expanding on today.” The teacher said, walking to the back of the classroom and tapping on a projector.

A powerpoint screen flashed up across the whiteboard, with orange text reading “TRIGONOMETRY”.

Amity sighed, hearing the last bit of brain power she had seeping out of her after reading the word.

She could sense the lifeless boredom across the other students in the classroom as well.

The teacher started talking about the unit, but by then, Amity’d completely checked out.

Her head was in other places, mostly by planning how she was going to get through today. Almost a mental schedule, one could say.

_Homeroom. I’ll get out of class, have a 70% chance of getting cornered by Boscha._

_Lunch. I’ll get served a plateful of birthday-flavored mush as per request of the principal._

_After that, I’ll get dragged to the mall, forced into a shopping spree, and then end the night with cheap food from Chick-Fil-A and a pit of emptiness in my stomach._

_The worst part of today might be Boscha and co. But, then again, they’re pretty easy to subdue with pop music and Urban Outfitters merch._

_I think, really, I’ll only have to worry about myself._

Amity sighed.

_I’ll have to worry if I’m okay with repeating the same thing for my birthday the 4th time in a row._

_I’m—I’m somewhat sure I’ll manage._

She woke up from her daze just in time for the teacher to call her name.

“Mrs. Blight, would you like to answer this question?”

Surprisingly enough, Amity had retained enough of what the teacher was saying to answer the question, and without skipping a beat, went right back to planning out her schedule.

_At the mall, I’ll probably get dragged to a span of 16-18 stores in 6 hours. Then, I’ll sit at one of the benches in the food court and suppress my urge to punch someone while Bosch and the gals get food from some cheap fast food restaurant’s booth. And surprise, surprise, the check will be on me because ‘I get birthday money every year’._

Amity curled her hands into fists and looked at her desk.

She closed her eyes and smiled.

_And then I’ll go home and end an absolutely stressful day with a hot bath and maybe a nice book._

_And sleep. Every wonderful day ends with sleep._

*

Now, I’m _not_ saying that Amity completely predicted everything that happened after that, but in that fact, she _absolutely_ did.

After Amity got out of homeroom (I’d estimate after a good 32.45 seconds of walking), Boscha came up behind her and poked her in the shoulder.

“Boo.” Boscha growled playfully.

“Fuck you, I’ve told you to stop doing that.” Amity grumbled back, still walking to her locker.

Boscha picked up pace as well to walk beside Amity, her cheaply dyed pink hair bouncing as she walked. “You weren’t even scared, pussy.”

_“You weren’t even scared, pussy.”_ Amity retorted mockingly.

“Ugh, whatever. I’m not gonna bother with the whole ‘personal space’ thing you’ve got set up.” Boscha replied.

“Anything else you want to say?” Amity asked snidely.

“Oh, yeah. Happy birthday.” Boscha said, and for exactly .9 seconds, Amity could sense sincerity in her tone.

“Anything else?” Amity asked, almost as if she was waiting for Boscha to ask that damned question. (Which, in fact, she was.)

“So, Kat got her driver’s license recently, and she was wondering if she could drive us to the mall. And then Amelia was like ‘Oh! Yeah, it’s like, Amity’s birthday in a few days, how about we wait and ask her then?’ And then Skara went—”

“Spit it out already.” Amity huffed, rounding a corner of the hall alongside Boscha.

“Go to the mall with us. I mean, we’ve kinda done this, like, literally every year on your birthday.” Boscha said.

“You say it as if it’s a demand and not a question.” Amity replied.

“How do you want me to say it? ‘Pweese go to da maww wif us?? Pweese Amitee you’re oww best fwiend!!’” Boscha said, making fake puppy eyes. “I know you’re going to accept anyways. What else would you do?”

“I don’t know, something useful? Like homework? Studying for the midterm exams we have in just a few weeks? Spending time with my family?” Amity replied, stopping at her locker and clicking the lock with the correct combination.

“I mean, like, fun stuff. Why would you miss a chance to hang out with your gal pals?” Boscha teased, nudging Amity’s arm with her elbow playfully.

“You’re insufferable,” Amity groaned, rolling her eyes.

“And you’re going to the mall with us.” Boscha said, quite proud of herself. She dipped her head forward and grinned, her scrunchie-bunched pink hair falling forward with her motions.

“I really don’t have a choice in this, do I?” Amity asked, turning around to face Boscha.

“Nah-ah. Trust me, you’re gonna have an amazing time. I promise.” Boscha said, tipping her head back up, her blue eyes filled with sincere excitement.

Amity rolled her eyes and stared right back at Boscha. “Fine. I will. Just promise me you won’t put the food check on me.”

“Alright, I won’t. We meet at 4:30. I’ll get Kat to drive to your house—“

“I can drive myself, thanks. I’ll meet you guys at the Blackridge parking lot at 4:30. How’s that sound?” Amity interrupted.

“Sounds nice. See you then.” Boscha said, slinking away from Amity’s view.

Once Boscha was out of view, Amity slammed her head against her locker door.

_Shitting fuck, she’s a nightmare to deal with. Alright, how many more hours until 4:30?_

Amity lifted her head off of her locker and checked her phone.

_10:30 A.M._

As if on cue, the locker bell rang.

“And that’s biology.” Amity sighed, slipping her phone back into her pockets and adjusting the straps on her backpack.

She walked back down the hall she came from, all the while still receiving the same stares she had when she first walked through the front doors.

Amity figured there would be at least a 70% chance of Boscha commenting on her hairstyle later on.

_Boscha often speaks her mind,_ Amity thought, _even though it gives her a tendency to not be able to shut the fuck up._

-

Everything else went as planned from then on.

Biology ended, then came Humanities.

Then Lunch, and as Amity predicted, she got a small cupcake thrown on her lunch tray as per Hexside’s mandate to ‘keep your slaves students happy!’.

And then, school let out.

-

Amity sat on the soft grass separating the grounds of Hexside and the parking lot in front of it, watching the clouds drift amongst the afternoon sky.

She folded her hands behind her head and sighed.

There doesn’t have to be anything else for right now.

Not Luz, not Ed and Em, and definitely not Boscha.

The grass felt soft, gently rubbing against Amity’s arm as she moved it behind her head.

She sighed, feeling the tie of her ponytail.

It’s a sentiment to how much of her life she repeats that she’s fully developed a mental schedule of how this day goes every year.

_Just once,_ Amity wished, _I want things to change._

But alas, Amity knew that if she stayed in the grass too long, she’d start decaying into moss. (Not that she didn’t want that, but again, her schedule didn’t allow joining the endless dirt of the topsoil.)

She slowly lifted herself off of the grass.

And stared at her car, sitting all alone in the parking lot. Most of the students who had cars had driven off by now.

Amity sighed, walking over to the parking lot, admiring the satisfying crinkling of dead leaves beneath her boots. The cold wind gently brushed against her, sending loose strands of her hair flickering out of her ponytail, and leaves flying in midair.

As much as Amity didn’t want to admit it, autumn was probably her favorite season. Looking past all of the degrading consumerism, there exists a strange beauty of watching everything in nature decay and waste away, leaving bare bones to grow life anew once spring came.

Amity didn’t really know. She just liked the crunch of the leaves when she stepped on them.

She opened the driver seat’s door to the Chevrolet and slid in, taking the keys out of her pocket and jamming them into the ignition.

_Boscha and the gals will come pick me up in an hour. I guess I could, I don’t know, nap?_

Amity felt like a nap right now. She always did. Living like this kinda tires her.

And so she stepped on the gas and turned to wheel, her mind set on throwing her room door open and passing out as soon as she fell onto her bed.

——-

Amity was only able to fit a solid 10 minutes in before she woke up.

She shot up out of her bed and groaned, sinking back into her pillows.

“You know what? Fine, fine, I’ll take a good 10 hours of sleep over nothing.” Amity grumbled, lifting the covers off of her and getting out of bed.

Her boots lay next to her closet, next to the discarded visor and plaid shirt.

Amity felt a hand to her ponytail, noting it was still there.

“And of course my dumbass forgot to take my ponytail off with it.” She mumbled, snatching her phone off of her dresser and blurrily reading the screen. “Seriously? 40 minutes? The hell am I supposed to do in that time?”

Amity looked around her room tiredly.

Of course it was a mess. Clothes thrown everywhere, books scattered across the floor, pencils and acrylics littered haphazardly throughout the room, journals full of concept art and sketches left open and stacked onto one desk.

Amity strolled over to the desk and pulled out the chair, sitting down and clearing off the desk with one fell swoop of her arm.

She smoothed her hand against the desk, and sighed.

“I haven’t drawn in ages, haven’t I?” She said, the satisfying smell of fresh pine surrounding her.

Amity reached a hand beside her desk and pulled out one of the journals she’d swept off of it.

She studied the cover of the journal in her hands. Hard, leather-like, and black. Sturdy enough to where it could stand on its own.

Amity opened the book and started flipping through the pages.

All of them were blank. Absolutely zero sketches at all.

Amity, after flipping the book all the way back to the first page, looked over at the metal can that was holding her sketching pencils, each one sharpened meticulously.

She took one out of the canister and tapped it lightly to the page, pondering what she should draw.

Obviously, as it seemed, she should draw that concept art that she promised Luz.

The first image that popped into mind was the simply vague description of “an owl house”.

Amity made the first line to the page a horizontal one.

_A house in the general shape of an owl wouldn’t make sense._

She made an upwards line.

_However, one with the motif of an owl—_

She made a curving line going from one side of the page to the other, rising unevenly in the middle. It vaguely resembled a roof.

_How could I try to display an owl-like motif? Feathers attached to the house?_

Amity sketched even more lines upwards, then sideways, giving complex dimension to the structure.

_What about eyes? How would I even put an owl’s eye onto the house?_

Amity made a large circle in the center of the paper.

She gently sketched an elliptical shape into the structure.

_That looks.. somewhat like an eye._

She sketched a tower behind the house to add to the structure.

“That’s where they keep the corpses, isn’t it?” Amity chuckled, jabbing at the paper, and making more lines.

_A windowsill there. A windchime. A terrace? I’ll put a terrace._

Once she was done, Amity pulled away from the drawing and examined it carefully.

“It’s.. It’s definitely missing something.” Amity said, lifting her pencil to the paper once again.

She sketched a simple circle on the front door.

“Why would a door have a circle on it?” Amity questioned, as if the drawing was a living thing.

But then, the image of the circle popping out of the door and swirling around the house flashed in her mind.

“Alright, what would it look like if you had eyes?” Amity said, smirking. She drew two simple circles on it.

The image in her mind changed itself to one of a beady-eyed horror circling the house menacingly.

However, this time, it made a noise. Specifically, an absolutely atrocious imitation of an owl’s hoot.

“Alright, you beady-eyed fuck, I’ll make you continue the bird motif.” Amity said smugly, ferociously scratching her pencil to the page.

And the more she began to form the face of this creature, the more it began to disgust her.

Of course, the thing needed a background. Amity sketched a couple of trees behind the house.Orange, as she envisioned them, evergreen-looking trees scattered the landscape behind the house.

Once she was done, she took her pencil away from the paper and stared in awe.

It was definitely hard to imagine this page was completely blank before. All of the details and lines sketched on it almost made the drawing come to life. She smiled half-tiredly and smoothed her hand over the page, admiring all the linework she had done.

Of course, that being said, it took a while. Amity glanced at her phone once she was done.

“Shit!”She shouted, upon realizing she’d been doodling for an hour.

Amity leapt out of her chair and darted over to her closet, sliding her boots and visor on. She carefully tied the plaid shirt around her torso, and sprinted towards the door.

“Damnit! Of course I was gonna be late!” She said, throwing open the door.

However, she stopped midway and turned around.

There, still lying on the desk, was the journal. Wide open, just calling Amity’s name, begging to be drawn in.

Amity slowly turned around and walked to the desk. She picked up the journal in her hands, and started flipping through the pages, before closing it, sketching pencil and eraser still inside.

“You know, I might need you later.” She said, smiling.

Amity turned to walk out the door, journal in her hands, ready for a birthday shopping spree.

*

“Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

Wasn’t Amity’s reaction to the overcrowded Blackridge Mall parking lot. She’d managed to squeeze the Chevrolet in between two bigger trucks.

No, what had instead caught Amity’s attention was the scene in front of the mall.

Of course, as Amity would’ve guessed, Boscha and the gang were already at the mall, standing just outside on the pavement.

Boscha, standing front and center, focused on her phone, Skara, taking selfies (with admittedly cringeworthy poses), Amelia, sitting on one of the small decorative pillars lining the pavement (also on her phone), and Kat, who appeared to be listening to some sort of song on her phone.

In front of them was one of those mall-issued motorized toddler cars. Painted like a racecar vehicle, the car had a huge checkered flag attached to it.

Amity rolled her eyes and growled.

She pulled the key out of the ignition of her car and grabbed her purse, which very obviously had her large sketchbook sticking out of it.

Amity opened the car door and breathed in, adjusting her purse on her shoulder, getting a feel for the chilly wind blowing outside this time of evening.

...And she let out a growled breath, walking over to where Boscha was.

-

“Heyyyy! Birthday girl! You’re here!” Amelia said, looking up from her phone. She was a girl with a neon-green to black hair color, black hoodie, ripped jeans, and black combat boots. _Her tone of voice vastly contrasts how she’s dressed,_ Amity always thought.

“Ami, you’re an hour and a half late. The fuck took you so long?” Boscha questioned, putting her phone back into her skirt’s pocket. She gave Amity a disapproving glare.

“Alright, well, before you get your scrunchie in a tizzy, I was taking a nap and I didn’t realize I’d slept in late. My mistake.” Amity answered. (Technically, she was only half-lying. There was some sleep involved.)

“Whatever. Anyways, we all decided we’d pull together some money to rent this car for the night. Since you’re the birthday girl, I think you should decide what to do with it.” Boscha said, pointing to the small motorized car, which was, mind you, fit for about 4 toddlers.

Amity looked at it and a cracked a smile. She was barely holding back a laugh. “How about we all ride in it?” She said.

It was at this point that Skara finally looked at Amity. “That’s a nice idea, but how in the Sam Hell would we all fit in that thing?”

Amity thought for a second. “Maybe if we all squish together, we could.”

“You know, actually, I have a better idea.” Boscha cut in. “How about, since you’re the birthday girl, you ride in it?”

Amity looked at the car again, then back at the girls. All of them were looking at her now, including Kat, who had somehow managed to peel her eyes away from her phone.

“It doesn’t feel right. You know, you guys all pulled together the money to rent this thing, it only makes sense that we all get to ride it. Or, at least you guys.” Amity said, smiling.

Boscha’s eyed widened. “You’re... serious?”

Amity nodded. “Yeah. And I think we’d all look pretty cool zooming around in this thing.”

A grin spread across Boscha’s face. “Well then? What the hell are we waiting for?” She said, hopping into the driver’s seat. “Get in, losers. We’re going shopping!”

One by one, all of the them got in, leaving Amity the only one out.

Amity stared at all of them in the car. _Yep, there’s not enough room for me. I woulda guessed—_

“Hey, aren’t you gonna get in?” Kat asked, looking at Amity confusedly.

“I’ll probably just walk beside you guys, anyways. I don’t think there’s room for me in there.” Amity replied, smiling.

“Oh, fuck off. We’ll make room for you, just get the hell in here!” Boscha shouted.

Amity chuckled and eased herself into the car, managing to grab a hold onto the back of it. “Onwards! To Le Shopping Mall!” She shouted, throwing a fist in the air.

“ONWARDS!” The rest of the group shouted, as the car started moving forward, however painfully slowly due to the amount of weight on the car.

-

It was definitely a sight to see.

Five girls, all decked out in ridiculous outfits, riding around on a motorized mall car definitely not designed to support people their age.

“Alright, m’ladies, where to first?” Boscha asked, taking her foot off of the “move” pedal.

“Ooh, ooh, I know! You know those candle stores?” Amelia asked.

“For the last time, Amelia, we’re not going to the candle store so you can get high off of the scent of strawberry banana.” Skara answered.

“How about, er, Hot Topic?” Kat asked, peering at some of the stores that lined the mall.

“Alright. What about you, Amity?” Boscha asked, turning around to face Amity.

“I don’t have any ideas. I’ll—I’ll let you guys choose.” Amity replied.

To be fair, Amity probably had plenty of places she’d want to go that weren’t in the mall. But it’s not worth ditching her hard-worked mental schedule.

Plus, even if she did give her input, Boscha would shoot her down anyways. It’s not like Amity had a choice.

Boscha shrugged. “Alright, your call.” She pressed the gas pedal again and the car jerked forward, vrooming off to the first store.

*

“Says it doesn’t allow mall motors in here. Bummer.” Kat said, once they’d stopped in front of the store.

“Alright, ladies, this is our first stop. Get what you need.” Boscha said, crouching her way out of the small seat she was wedged in.

Amity got up off of the back of the small car and looked at the front of the store.

Like every other typical modern outfitter store, Hot Topic had its name blazed in neon lights.

Red and black studio foam lined the inside walls of the store, and the black carpet contrasted heavily with the usual creamy white mall tiles.

Amity sighed. “I’ll probably just get, like, a hat or something.”

“Typical Amity, frugal and wanting to penny pinch as much as you can.” Boscha said, teasing a strand of pink hair between her fingers. “Look, I’ll give you a deal. If you buy more than just a hat, then I’ll pay for your purchase.”

“You don’t need to do that.” Amity replied.

“But I do. I mean, come on, you basically wear the same wrinkly sweatshirt and jeans every single day! What are you, a cartoon character?” Boscha questioned.

“I wear what’s comfortable to me. Is that a problem?” Amity asked.

“No, it’s not, I just—I get the feeling that you don’t ever want to change your style. I mean, this is the first day in a long time I’ve seen you try to change your daily outfit!” Boscha answered, a grimace forming across her face.

“Yeah, yeah. The one thing I’m surprised about was that you didn’t point out my hair.” Amity retorted.

“Actually, we’ve all noticed it. We just didn’t say anything.” Skara said, pointing at Amity’s ponytail. She lifted her golden-lined sunglasses higher on her head.

“Oh, yeah. I was tempted to bring it up. I didn’t know you had—you know.” Boscha said, awkwardly pointing a finger at Amity’s hair.

“You wouldn’t have known I had an undercut because of my lion’s mane of hair.” Amity replied.

“Well, if you’re complaining about it so much, we could find a salon in this mall and get a stylist for it.” Skara said.

“Great idea, Skar, but we’re already standing in front of a store, which we haven’t even gone into yet. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m heading in.” Boscha stuck her head up in the air and started marching into the store, the rest of the gang following after her.

“Pissy much.” Amity grumbled, walking into the store as well.

*

“I mean, look at this crap! They sell burrito kitten socks! AND THEY’RE SPACE THEMED!” Kat cooed, picking up a pair of socks from one of the store aisle’s racks.

Amity peered at the socks. “They’re just feet warmers, you know.”

Kat sighed, a faked grumpy frown spreading across her face. “ThEy’Re jUsT lEg wArMeRs, YoU kNoW.” She retorted mockingly.

Amity rolled her eyes. “Alright, fine, get your purrito socks. They’ll go great with your kitten headphones.”

“DO NOT TEASE THE KITTY HEADPHONES!” Kat shouted defensively, patting the pair of black cat-eared headphones perched on her neck.

Amity turned around to start looking for more things she probably wouldn’t buy. “Yeah, yeah. You better get a subwoofer to match your furry headphones.” She replied under her breath.

“WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY ABOUT MY HEADPHONES?” Kat yelled back.

“Cool your jets, I didn’t say shit.” Amity replied.

“Mhmmmmmm….” Kat mumbled suspiciously.

Amity picked a beanie off of one of the racks. It was purple, and had several shiny golden stars embroidered on the rim of it.

She admired the beanie, smoothing her fingers around each and every tiny individual star.

Of course, her admiring was interrupted by Boscha sliding into the aisle and running up to Amity, almost out of breath.

“AMITYAMITYAMITYAMITY—“ Boscha yelled, panting, trying to catch her breath.

“What?” Amity asked, Looking at the absurd amount of shirts Boscha had in her arms.

“Ok—so—I, uh—I got some stuff—for you.” Boscha said, slowly regaining her breath, and taking some of the shirts out of her arms.

“Wha—why?” Amity questioned.

“I thought you might like them. It’s your birthday, can’t I buy you a fucking gift?” Boscha retorted.

“I’m not—you’re not required to spend money on me. I just came here to have a good time.” Amity replied. _Well, I don’t think I’m even having THAT._

“Yeah, but I want to. Look at this one! It’s got a cat on it!” Boscha said, holding up one of the sweatshirts she was holding.

Amity scanned the shirt. It was pure black, and had a cat with headphones on, scratching on a DJ turntable. Outlined in white, the text below it said “vibin’”.

Amity pinched the bridge of her nose. “Alright, whatever. I’ll let you get it for me. Just know that I’m not forcing you to do it.”

“Great!” Boscha exclaimed, waddling away with the shirts in her arms over to the checkout desk.

“Damn, I feel bad for that cashier.” Skara said, walking over to the aisle with a bag slung over her arm. She looked painfully over at the cash register, where Boscha was in the process of dumping all of the shirts onto the desk.

Amity sighed and looked at the beanie in her hands. “I think I’ll buy this.”

Skara peered at the beanie. “Beanies aren’t usually your style.”

Amity looked at Skara, then back to the beanie. “I kind of like it though. Plus, it’s got stars—I mean, who doesn’t like stars?”

“True. I think I’ll go help Boscha over there with the shirts. Kat’s already checked out and waiting in the car for us to get back.” Skara said, walking out of the aisle and over to the checkout.

Amity glanced at the beanie again.

Well, it did look nice, but that wasn’t the only reason she wanted to get it.

It.. reminded her of someone. Amity didn’t know who, but she knew it was someone.

She left out a half-sigh and walked to the checkout.

_I guess I’ll have to just find out who that someone is._

*

“Where to next, girls?” Boscha inquired. The amount of things she’d bought for Amity (from multiple stores, mind you) was so large that she ended up having to stand over the car, foot on the gas pedal, body crouched over the edge.

“Well, how about Build-A-Bear? I get the feeling that Amelia would love resurrecting the dead and lifeless.” Skara snorted.

“You read my mind.” Amelia replied.

“I want a cat plushie!” Kat squealed, squirming around in her seat.

“Well, as long as all of you are okay with it, I’m fine with it as well.” Amity said.

“Damn. That’s like, on the second floor—we might have to ditch this car.” Boscha said, sighing.

“Well, if you need someone to watch over the car, I can do it.” Amity suggested.

“Absolutely not. You’re the birthday girl, it’s mandatory that you come with us.” Boscha said, shooting Amity’s idea down.

“Ugh, fine, I’ll do it.” Skara growled, shutting off her phone and leaning her head back.

“Great!” Boscha exclaimed, taking her foot out of the car. “I’m sure you’ll make an amazing car security agent.” She said, smiling.

“Like ass I would,” Skara muttered under her breath.

“Last one there’s a rotten potato!” Kat yelled, jumping out of the car and running to the escalator leading to the second level.

“I’M NOT GONNA BE A FUCKING ROTTEN POTATO!” Boscha yelled, running after her.

Amity pinched the bridge of her nose and groaned.

“Those two are a headache,” She muttered.

“Couldn’t’ve said it better myself.” Skara replied.

Amity sighed, getting off of the back of the car and speedwalking towards the escalator, hot on the trail of Boscha and Kat.

-

“AAAAAAA!! THERE’S SO MUCH CUTENESS!!” Kat screeched, skipping into the Build-A-Bear workshop.

Walls of unstuffed plushies and accessories lined the walls. Vats full of cotton and beads scattered the small store. Boxes with clouds and fields painted on them stood next to the brightly colored checkout desks.

And, of course, the store was filled to the brim with people. And kids. Lots of ‘em.

_Technically,_ Amity thought, walking into the store after an excited Kat, _I’m not a kid as of today._

“Alright. Kat, go get your cat plushie or whatever. I’m probably gonna watch the vats spin some cotton.” Boscha said. She looked over to Amity. “What about you?”

“Eh, I’ll probably just skip getting a plushie.” Amity said, looking around at the shop and back to Kat and Boscha. “Hey, wait, where’d Amelia go?”

“Probably to go dropkick a 13-year-old, I dunno.” Boscha replied, shrugging.

*cut to Amelia setting a toilet on fire, laughing maniacally*

“Alright, well, if you two are going to continue chatting, I’m gonna go get my cat plush!” Kat said, skipping away to where the animal skins were.

One she was out of earshot, Boscha turned back to Amity. “You do realize I’ll probably get you a stuffed animal anyways, right?”

“Shoulda guessed,” Amity answered.

“So, do you have, like, a preference? For, you know, stuffed animals.” Boscha asked.

“Er—“—Amity said, looking towards the animal section—“—Just surprise me.”

“So, you’re okay with whatever I pick out?” Boscha asked.

“Uh-huh.” Amity answered.

“Alright, I’ll be back in a bit.” Boscha said, walking over to the animal racks.

Amity stood there at the front of the store, not sure what to do.

_Of course. Following this kind of schedule meant waiting was involved._

Amity sighed, and started walking around the store to distract herself.

She pretended like the boxes caught her gaze (when in reality they’d really only appeal to the eyes of a 4-year-old), studied the cotton dispensers and vats, and spent an egregious amount of time staring at the floor, just waiting for a thought to pop into her head to distract her.

That was.. kind of the entire experience. Just waiting. Wondering when something would happen.

That’s always the feeling Amity was left with on her birthdays.

_When can I stop asking “when?”?_

Amity looked outside the front door, realizing she’d walked all the way around the store, right back to where she started.

She stared out the front door, feeling people breeze by her.

Time comes to a still.

Amity’s the only one left frozen while everyone else moves past her.

_When?_

She didn’t know.

_When can I stop asking that? What happens when “when” comes?_

She still didn’t know.

_What’ll I do? Cheer? Sing? Act like my work paid off?_

She never knew.

_Or… maybe I’ll still be waiting. Watching. Maybe this’ll never be over._

_And.. I’ll always be asking when._

And she never will know.

Amity felt her head spin.

All of this thinking.. it just made her loathe the thought even more.

All she wanted to do was press the fast forward button on life.

“Amity!”

A voice echoed among the fog in her brain.

“AMITY!”

It screamed loudly, jolting Amity back to reality.

“Amity, look!”

Amity turned around.

Kat was running towards her, a black cat plushie in her hands.”I have a new child!”

“They’re… cute.” Amity said, giving a thumbs up.

“Boscha’s almost done getting your plushie. She said she needed to do some ‘extra work’ on it, or something.” Kat said, turning around to look at where Boscha was.

Amity groaned. Extra work. Something tells me she’s using her sweet liberty with my present.

“Hey, you know, you should be thankful Boscha’s doing all of this for you. She’s a good friend.” Kat said, looking Amity directly in the eyes.

Amity darted her eyes away. “Look, I am, but she doesn’t need to. I just—I don’t want to see her going around, dropping needless expenses on me.”

“Have you ever considered that she’s just a nice person?” Kat questioned.

_You wouldn’t be able to tell by the way she acts,_ Amity thought.

_At least, I know that. I’ve known her for years. Longer than any of the other girls._

“She is a nice person. But—she’s stubborn. And a tiny bit rude. And snide.” Amity replied, after a bit.

“That’s you, right there. You’re describing yourself. Stop describing yourself.” Kat replied.

“But I’m not—“ Amity started, before cutting off.

_But I am._

_I mean, as much as me and Boscha are different—_

_—and as much as I hate to admit this—_

_—we’re the same._

“—Alright, fine. I’ll go and thank her. I’ll even give her a kiss if you want, Kat.” Amity continued, a smug smile forming across her face.

“Ew, um—just the other stuff. Not the kiss—I mean, look, just go and thank her. She deserves it.” Kat replied, stuttering on her words.

Amity rolled her eyes, and turned around to go find Boscha, but just as she did—

“Hey, I got your gift.” Boscha said, standing right next to Amity.

“GOD FUCKING DAMNIT, CAN YOU NOT?” Amity yelled, pushing Boscha away.

The entire store craned their heads to look at Amity. It went dead silent.

Amity stood frozen where she was.

“Um, I think you forgot there are kids in here.” Kat whispered.

Amity nodded and cleared her throat.

“Uh—sorry. About that.” Amity apologized, watching the entire crowd inside of the store disapprovingly sigh and go back to what they were doing.

“Didn’t know I could break your resolve like that,” Boscha teased.

“I’ve told you before not to pop up on me like that.” Amity sighed. “Alright, what’d you get me?”

Boscha perked up. “Right. Um—“—She uncovered the plushie she was holding in her arms and handed it to Amity—“—You didn’t really clarify what you wanted, so I got whatever I thought would fit you.”

Amity held the plushie in her hands and looked at it.

The plushie in question was a fluffy pink-and-brown unicorn. Its eyes were a milky pearly pink, with carefully dotted white hearts on them. The mane and tail on it (which were probably very intentionally reminiscent of a lion’s mane) were a green minty color.

Amity smiled, looking at the plushie. “You.. really made this just for me, didn’t you?”

“Well, of course I tried to make it as you as possible.” Boscha replied.

Amity looked up. “Thanks. For, you know. this. And all of the shirts. And all of the other stuff you got me.”

“No problem.” Boscha replied, smiling.

Kat squealed. “Aww..”

Amity groaned. “And, moment ruined.”

“So, now that that’s done, how about we all meet up and get some dinner?” Boscha asked, pointing to the front door.

“You know what? I’m absolutely starving.” Kat replied, walking to the front entrance. “Last one there’s a rotten potato!” She yelled, running out of the front entrance.

“Hey! Wait up, idiot!” Boscha yelled, running after her.

Amity smiled.

“What a bunch of dumbasses,” She said, walking out the door behind them, stroking the unicorn in her hands.

-

“Alright. Where the hell are we gonna eat at?”

Skara said, folding her arms against her head and leaning back in her chair.

“Dunno. This food court’s got so many places that we almost always end up going to the same one.” Boscha replied. She looked over to Amity. “You know the drill, B-Day girl.”

“I don’t know. I can’t really decide.” Amity replied. She had her sketching pencil in her hands and was tapping it against the table.

Kat grumbled, face planted into the table. “I want chinese.”

“I kind of want Chick-Fil-A.” Skara said.

“Alright, well, I don’t think we should make any big decisions right now. Amelia’s gone, and we should wait until she—“

“Yo, whaddup. I’m back.” Amelia said, pulling up a chair backwards to the table and sitting on it (the wrong way, if you were wondering.)

“Hey! We were all just discussing what food we should all order. Do you, like, I dunno, have any suggestions?” Boscha asked, smiling. She’d had her shirt’s sleeves rolled up, and her hands were resting on the table. Amity could tell her fingers were shaking from low blood sugar.

“Yeah. Fast food.” Amelia said.

“Damnit! None of us can agree on anything!” Boscha exclaimed. Amity could tell she was two seconds away from losing it.

“How about we all order what we want?” Amity suggested in an attempt to keep Boscha from losing her shit.

“Actually, that’s a pretty good idea.” Skara replied.

“Alright. We all go get whatever kind of food we want. We meet back here in 20 minutes.” Boscha said, getting out of her chair and digging her wallet out of her skirt’s pocket.

Pretty soon, everyone had left the table, leaving Amity to sit alone in her chair.

But before the existential thoughts could reach her, Amity pulled out the sketchbook from her purse.

If she was going to waste away, it’d only be fitting to do it creatively.

Amity flipped open the sketchbook to the second page, and tapped her pencil on the paper, waiting for an idea to pop into her head.

Of course, really, the only things she could think about were her friends.

She lifted her gaze down to the paper and started drawing a a head.

Then another head. And another. And, another.

The first head on the page sported a rough scratch on the page where Amity had scruffed the pencil too hard.

She thought for a moment, and then doodled a short-cut hairstyle on the character.

The second one was relatively normal, except Amity accidentally outlined it too lightly.

And on that head went a head full of long and straight hair.

The third one was… the weirdest. Amity couldn’t quite figure out where she’d gone wrong on it, so she went ahead and drew the hairstyle.

And so that head sported bangs and a tied-up bun.

The fourth one was pretty simple. Rough pencil sketches made up the majority of its outline.

So that head sported an undercut-ponytail.

And the last one..

Well, Amity thought for a bit about the last one.

The group of heads felt.. incomplete. Of course there was something missing to it.

Amity gripped the pencil in her hand tighter, struggling to work around the problem of incompleteness.

But before she could solve it, a bag of food was slammed on the table.

“Shit!” Amity yelled, nearly jolting off of her chair.

“Wow, you’re like, really jumpy today.” Boscha teased, sliding into a chair.

“Ugh. What’d you get, anyways?” Amity asked, her hand cupping over the sketches she’d made to hide them from view.

“Eh, just a burger. Not much. We all.. kind of did our own thing.” Boscha said.

Amity didn’t find out what that meant until the smell of several different types of food hit her.

The rest of the girls slid in at the table, and Amity decided to close her sketchbook and put it back in her bag.

“So, what were you drawing?” Kat asked, looking at Amity warily shoving her sketchbook inside her purse.

“Uh—nothing. Not much, really. Just—you know, some heads.” Amity said, turning her focus back to the table. “Er… you didn’t happen to bring anything for me, right?”

“Pfft, how could we forget?” Boscha said, unwrapping another burger for her. “You’re the birthday girl, after all.” 

Amity smiled, taking the burger. “Thanks, guys.”

“Ah-ah-ah, that’s not the only thing. We’re not asking you to pay the check this time.” Boscha corrected.

“Actually, none of us are.” Kat said, clacking the pair of chopsticks her hand was holding.

“Then who is?” Amity asked.

“I am. Besides, It’s not much damage to my parent’s funds.” Boscha said.

“Wow, really? I swear to fucking god, you’re going way overboard with this.” Amity joked.

“I expected a ‘thank you’.” Boscha retorted.

“Thanks, Bosch. This—this means a lot to me.” Amity said, smiling. “I’m—I’m kind of running out of words to say, honestly. Is ‘thank you’ even good enough?”

“No, it’s just enough. Besides, you’re the birthday girl. Why wouldn’t I, as your friend, try to make you happy on your special day?” Boscha asked, lifting an eyebrow.

“You’ve got a point.” Amity replied, a smug smile spreading across her face.

“Alright, you guys. Enough with the adorable banter, you’re literally gonna make me throw up.” Skara joked.

“Oh, you think THAT’S cute? You should’ve seen what Skara was doing before we even came back from Build-A-Bear! She was zooming around with the car and making cute little vrooming noises!” Kat squealed.

“I was NOT!” Skara shouted defensively.

“You SO were! You were like, “Toot toot! Here comes the racecar!” and you were chasing little kids with it! It was THE most adorable thing!” Kat replied.

“THEY WERE VERY SERIOUS CAR NOISES!” Skara shouted back.

“Aww.. someone secretly likes vroom noises and isn’t telling us about it!” Amelia chimed in, cooing aswell.

“Both of you, go fuck yourselves.” Skara grumbled, sliding back into her chair.

“I sense.. a tsundere!” Kat teased, nudging Skara’s arm with her elbow.

“UGHHHHHH!” Skara growled.

Amity could barely hold back from laughing.

“Jeez, Skara, I didn’t know you were that adorable. How about we go take you to the wittle wace caww twack so that you can wace your wittle caww?” Boscha teased.

“Fuck you, fuck all of you.” Skara muttered.

Amity smiled, watching all of her friends laugh and just enjoy themselves.

And, for once, she was enjoying herself too.

Maybe it was.. just this. All of this. That she’d been missing.

This flurry of happiness.. it didn’t feel at all real.

But it was.

And.. that’s what made Amity happy.

That all of this was happening now.

And that she didn’t have to wait, or..

..keep asking when.

And she laughed along with her friends, through whatever they talked about.

Because it didn’t matter what was in the future.

Because—

—this was now.

*

After the food court, Amity walked along the mall stores, looking around. The rest of the gang followed her as she walked.

“Alright, you know the question. Where do we go next?” Boscha asked, looking at Amity.

“Wait, don’t you already have, like, somewhere you want to go next?” Amity asked confusedly.

“Nah-ah. We’ve already been to all of my favorite places at Blackridge.” Boscha replied, stepping out in front of all of them and putting her hands on her hips.

All of them stopped walking and looked around.

“We’ve been to, like, nearly every place in this mall. I don’t think there’s much left for Amity to choose from.” Amelia said.

“I think there’s probably some sort of dark closet we haven’t checked yet..” Kat thought.

“Amelia’s right. Unless Amity feels like we should hang out in the parking lot for probably no reason at all, then.. we’ve really got nowhere else to go.” Skara said, looking at Amity.

“Um, so, you guys—nowhere? You’ve got nothing?” Amity asked nervously.

“Yeah, basically.” Kat said, and the rest of the group nodded with her.

Amity froze up.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck. This isn’t how it was supposed to go._

_I can’t—I can’t change my schedule now! Fuck, um—improvise! IMPROVISE!_

“Uh—um—so I, uh, I’ve heard of this really, really good ice cream place, just outside of here. I guess, maybe we could go there.” Amity choked out.

“What’s it called?” Kat asked, pulling out her phone.

“Oh, um—you don’t need to drive to it. It’s called something like NekoShake. Cat-themed ice cream truck. I—I used to go there a lot last year.” Amity replied.

“So, like, we can just walk?” Boscha questioned.

“Yeah. They serve amazing milkshakes, so…”

“Milkshakes? Cats? I’M IN!” Kat squealed, jumping up and down.

“Sounds nice. I could go for a milkshake right about now.” Skara chimed in.

Amity smiled. _Wow. I didn’t even think they’d accept the idea._

“Hey, Kat?” Amity asked.

“Nya?” Kat replied.

“LAST ONE THERE IS A ROTTEN FUCKING POTATO!” Amity yelled, sprinting towards the front entrance of the mall.

“YOU SLIMY NUTHEAD! THAT’S MY LINE!” Kat yelled, running after her.

“HEY ASSHOLES! WAIT UP FOR ME!” Boscha shouted, hot on the trail of the two.

Amelia and Skara stood right where they were.

“You’re walking?”

“Yeah, I’m walking.”

*

Amity slid into the lot of the NekoShake truck and fell down onto the ground, panting.

Kat fell next to her, out of breath.

“You… bitch.. I f-fucking win.” Amity stuttered.

Boscha walked out of breath and fell against a tree. “That.. I’m never doing that again.”

Amelia and Skara walked up next to them.

“What the hell were you three thinking?” Skara asked.

“About how I was gonna beat these two’s asses… and by god, I sure did.” Amity said, getting off of the ground and stretching. “You owe me 20 bucks, both of you.”

“What? Why?” Kat asked.

“‘Cause. You guys were on the same track running team as me last year. If you two can’t beat me, then I’d at least deserve to get some payment for my work.” Amity replied smugly.

Boscha raised an eyebrow.

“I also left my wallet in my car.” Amity continued.

“Fine, we’ll pay for you. But I’ll win next time, and you can count on that.” Kat growled.

Amelia rolled her eyes. “Now that that’s done, I’m gonna go find a table for us to sit at.”She said, walking over to the clearing next to the truck that had 4 or so picnic tables scattered across it.

“Alright. I’ll go up to the stand and order the shakes. What flavor would you guys like?” Kat asked, pulling her wallet out of her jeans’ pocket.

Amity looked up at the truck. “Strawberry. If they don’t have strawberry, I’d like chocolate.”

“I see you have a preference.” Boscha teased.

“You were accurate with that unicorn plush.” Amity replied.

“Where’d you even put that thing anyways?”

“I put it in my purse. Where’d you put all the other shit you got me?” Amity asked, putting her hands on her hips.

“I left it in the.. the… shit.” Boscha said. “I left the stuff at the mall—Skara, can you come back to the mall with me and help me get our stuff?”

“It’s already waaay past dark. Plus, someone’s probably already stolen it all by now.” Skara shrugged.

“It wouldn’t hurt to look. Amity, Kat—just get our shakes for us. Me and Skara will head to the mall. We’ll be back in 15 minutes tops.”

“Wait, I didn’t agree to any of this—“

“Alright. What flavors would you want?” Kat asked.

“Blueberry for me, cherry for Skara. Onwards! To Le Mall!” Boscha yelled, grabbing Skara’s arm and pulling her with her back to the mall.

“Uh, I’ll just go order the shakes.” Kat said, but before she could turn around—

“KAT! CAN YOU GIVE ME YOUR CAR KEYS?” Boscha yelled.

“UGH, FINE!” Kat yelled back, running over to where Boscha was.

Amity stood where she was, blinking.

“I should probably go sit down now.” Amity said, to absolutely no one at all.

Amity slid in next to Amelia at one of the tables.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Amelia replied.

Amity stared at the wood of the table.

“So I smelled fire coming out of one of the mall bathrooms earlier—“

“Please, don’t tell anyone.”

Amity stared at Amelia, who’d broken her focus away from her phone.

“I wasn’t gonna. I was gonna ask—“

Amity smiled, crossing her arms.

“Can you teach me how?”

Amelia’s face lit up. “Hell yeah!”

*

Kat came back to the table with two milkshakes in her hands, confused at what she was seeing.

Amelia and Amity were both staring wide-eyed at a burning leaf.

Amelia, perched on the table like a cat, was gazing in awe at the leaf, sparkles in her eyes.

Amity, sitting on the bench, had her chin propped up on her hand, and she was gazing dreamily at the leaf.

“Uh… I don’t mean to be a meiwaku, but what the fresh Kentucky fried frick are you two doing?” Kat questioned, setting the shakes on the table.

“I—“

“We weren’t doing anything!” Amelia yelled, crushing the leaf and hopping off of the table with impressive dexterity.

“Yeah, suuuure you weren’t.” Kat said, raising an eyebrow. “Amelia, you didn’t say what flavor milkshake you wanted.”

“Lime.” Amelia replied, sliding back onto the bench and checking her phone.

“What about mine?” Amity asked.

“Yours is taking a little longer than expected.” Kat said, but Amity could tell she was hiding something. But she chose not to say anything about it.

She didn’t have to either, because just as Kat had said that, Boscha and Skara came running back to the lot.

“We—we got the stuff!” Boscha said, panting.

Kat cleared her throat.

“Right, uh—“—Boscha handed Kat the car keys—“—thanks for letting me borrow these.”

“You’re welcome. Both of your milkshakes are ready, I’ll head back to the kiosk to get Amelia her shake.” Kat said, walking off to the truck again as Skara and Boscha made their way to the table.

Amity had her sketch book propped up in her lap and was doodling away.

Amelia looked up from her phone. God knows what she’s doing on there, Amity thought.

“Oh, hey. How was the trip?” Amelia said, smugly.

“Awful. We had to run back to get our stuff just as the worker was pulling the car away. Then we had to find Kat’s car in the darkest parking lot I’ve ever seen.” Boscha said, sliding onto the bench.

“We ended up setting off Kat’s car alarm because Boscha apparently doesn’t know how to unlock a door.” Skara growled, leaning against the table.

“Ooh, sounds painful.” Amelia fake-winced.

“You bet!” Boscha exclaimed.

Kat walked back to the table and slid next to Boscha. “Hey, Amelia. I got your shake.”

Amelia broke her gaze from her phone and took an earbud out. “Thanks,” She said, grabbing the drink in her hands.

“So, we’re all in agreement, that tonight was amazing?” Boscha asked, quite proud of herself.

Pretty much everyone at the table nodded.

Amity shifted her focus from the sketchbook, listening intently as she tapped the pencil against the page.

And she nodded too.

Boscha looked down, and cleared her throat.

“Hey, Amity?”

Amity looked up from her sketchbook. “Yeah?”

“So, I saw what you were drawing earlier. Look, I, um—“

Amity lifted an eyebrow.

“—I know you’re missing someone from there.” Boscha sighed.

Amity closed her sketchbook and sighed.

“Bosch, you don’t have to talk about this. I know it hurts you to.” Skara said, putting her hand on Boscha’s shoulder.

“No, I um—I want to.” Boscha said, taking a minute to breathe in. She gripped her milkshake cup tighter.

“I’m glad that—that we’re all here. Right now. I’m just so happy I get to have you all with me.” Boscha started. “It just doesn’t feel the same without her here.”

Amity’s heart dropped. She instantly knew what Boscha was talking about.

“A-and I get it, Amity. You can’t bring yourself to draw her. It’s just—so much pain.” Boscha continued, twirling the straw around in her milkshake cup.

“And this year marks 2 years of her.. absence.” Kat said heavily.

Amity looked over to Amelia. She was sure Amelia wasn’t showing any visible emotion on her face unlike the others, but—

Amelia was crying. Amity could tell.

“Why’d she have to fucking die? Why’d that fucking car have to even fucking hit her?” Amelia cried.

“We can’t change what happened to Bo.” Kat replied.

“WHY THE FUCK CAN’T WE? I NEVER WANTED HER TO DIE! SHE WAS MY FRIEND!” Amelia shouted, tears rolling down her face.

“Look, Amelia—“

“WHY?” Amelia cried again, slumping against the table, head in her hands.

It was at this point that Amity finally jumped out of her seat and slammed her hands on the table.

“ALL OF YOU, SHUT THE FUCK UP AND LISTEN TO ME!” She yelled.

The entire table went silent as they all looked at Amity.

Amity sighed.

“I—I know you all miss her. I do as well. But, and I don’t mean to sound preachy here, we’ve got each other. And.. I’m happy that we do.” Amity said, smiling, tears welling in her eyes. “Let’s make this night amazing, okay? For Bo.”

Boscha stood up. She looked at the rest of the table, then focused her glance back to Amity.

“I’ll tell you this. I know jack shit about ghosts and paranormal stuff, but I know she’s here. And.. I think she’s celebrating right with us. Holding a milkshake. I think she’d like that.” Boscha said, her voice shrouded in painful teariness and happiness.

Then, Skara uttered words that absolutely no one in the group thought she’d say.

“Group hug?” Skara offered, smiling.

Kat squealed, jumping out of her seat and latching onto Skara. “GROUP HUG!”

The rest of the group followed, and pretty soon they were all tumbling to the ground in a hugging, giggly mess.

Kat got up off of the ground and brushed her anime-themed shirt off. “Amity, I think your milkshake’s ready.”

“Well then? Go get it for me!” Amity teased.

The rest of the girls sat back at the table, as Kat came back with a plate holding a cup.

It wasn’t.. just a milkshake. It was more liked a huge milkshake cup, with a cake on top.

To make it even better, a candle was placed on top of the shake, which balanced the cold frothiness of the shake with the warm fluffiness of the cake.

Kat placed the shake in front of Amity, smiling.

“Special order for the birthday girl!” Kat said.

Amity looked at the ‘cake shake’, sparkly-eyed and teary.

“It’s.. amazing..” She said.

“That’s not all, though! Guys, on 3!” Kat yelled. “1, 2,3!”

The group, as if on cue, started singing ‘Happy Birthday’. It definitely wasn’t beautiful or synced in the least bit, but to Amity, it was an amazing harmony to hear all of her friends (even Amelia!) singing it.

And once they were done, they all looked at Amity, patiently awaiting some sort of response.

Of course, but this point, Amity’s ‘emotional response meter’ had completely worn out, leaving her reduced to a smiling and crying mess of happiness and joy.

“Thank you, thank you guys so much—“ She struggled to say through her sobs of happiness.

Boscha crossed her arms and smiled. “No problem, B-Day girl. Now, how about you make a wish?”

Amity managed to collect herself enough to think for a second.

I _guess.._

_..all I want to wish for is just for this. All of this. Maybe I’d wish for something to change, but then again.._

_..why would I want to change any of this?_

_Maybe I really am looking at the dark side of things too often._

_That’s it._

_I’d.. like to start seeing the good in people. In things. In places._

_I don’t think a simple birthday wish would suffice. Of course it’d take a lot of personal work. And learning._

_But.. I think I could try._

_Life’s all about trying, so.._

_.. I’m willing to give that a try, even._

Amity smiled through her tears and blew out the candle, sealing her birthday wish in a kiss of flame.

“Happy birthday, Amity!” The whole table cheered.

Amity ran out of words. But.. at this point, she didn’t need any.

Her face was wet, her hair was frizzed, but her heart..

.. touched.

And, of course, her food untouched.

“Well, aren’t you gonna eat that damn thing? If you don’t, I will!” Skara joked.

“I’m gonna, I’m gonna, I just—thanks, you guys.” Amity said, wiping the tears off of her face.

“No problem. Anything for the birthday girl. And—“ Boscha said, looking across the table at everyone.

“—Our friend.”

*

Amity pulled up in front of the manor at God knows what time.

She pulled the key out of the ignition and yawned, grabbing the ridiculous amount of shopping bags full of things that Boscha had dumped on her, as well as her purse, and stepping out of the car.

She bunched up all of the bags in her arms and walked to the front door of the manor, stepping inside.

Well, the inside of the manor didn’t change much since she’d left there in the morning. The pink princesslike party decorations were still hanging up. Pink balloons were floating all across the manor, and streamers were lining the stairs.

Amity smiled, pushing the bags inside.

_Em and Ed are probably fast asleep by now,_ She thought.

_But maybe they still left the cake out for her anyways, with the blind hope that I’ll actually eat it._

But.. the ride home wearing off the milkshake definitely made Amity wonder if they’d actually left a cake out for her, so she wandered into the kitchen.

She felt around the counter, the dim lights of the manor lighting where her hand was feeling the marble and wood countertops.

She sifted her hand around scattered areas of dust and flour, sugar and cinnamon, dried custard and cheese.

Obviously, they had been baking since I was gone.

Amity looked over that the spare dining room down the hall, noting that the lights in the hall were turned on.

She wandered to the hall, and was just about to stroll into the open room, when—

“SURPRISE! Happy birthday, Amity!” Emira and Edric yelled, jumping out from underneath the table.

Amity screamed and jumped back, hitting the floor hard.

“WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK, YOU TWO?” Amity yelled.

“Hm. I thought we could use a little more improvement on our entrance.” Emira said, brushing the dust off of her apron.

“My thoughts exactly. I feel like we were a bit rough on the whole ‘diving out from under the table’ thing.” Edric replied, nodding.

“No, I mean—what the fuck?” Amity said, stomping over to where Ed and Em were at the table. “You nearly scared the fucking shit out of me! No, scratch that, you DID scare the shit out of me!”

“Well, if it makes you feel better, that wasn’t exactly our intention.” Edric said.

“Actually, this was.” Emira turned to what was on the table.

A large pink-white-and-gold cake sat on the table, decorated with white sprinkles and golden outlines. The top had a golden unicorn horn sticking out of it.

Amity stared at the cake in awe. She bent over the table to get a closer look.

“H.. how long did you two spend on this?” She asked.

“A while. About 6 hours of work. And a fair share of Youtube tutorials.” Emira said, smiling. “Go ahead, there’s a knife and a plate in front of the cake for a reason.”

Amity of course cut herself a piece and stared intently at the layers within the cake.

_Strawberry and chocolate,_ She noted.

“What are you waiting for? Try it!” Edric encouraged her.

Amity bit into the cake and smiled. “Fuck, you two know exactly what I like.”

“Of course we do, Ami. You’re our lil’ sis. Why wouldn’t we?” Emira said, smiling.

Amity beamed. “Thanks, you two. For the cake, for breakfast, for—everything, basically.”

Emira threw her arms around Amity, hugging her tightly. “No problem, birthday girl.”

Edric did the same, and soon Amity was stuck between two overly excited 20 year olds.

“Okay, okay, you can let go now, I’m uh—a little tired right here.” Amity said, releasing from the hug. “I’ve got a bunch of stuff to carry up to my room.”

“Why not we help you?” Emira asked.

“I mean, only if you want to.” Amity replied.

Edric, however, was already dashing out of the kitchen. “SHOW US THE STUFF!” He shouted.

Amity rolled her eyes, and walked out to the kitchen.

“They’re near the front door, Ed! You can’t miss ‘em!” Amity shouted, upon hearing a thump in front of the front door.

“I think he found them,” Emira said.

“I FOUND THEM!” Edric yelled.

“Well, that’s my cue, I’ll get your stuff up to your room. Happy birthday, sis.” Emira said, waving to Amity and walking over to help Edric with the presents.

“Thanks, you two.” Amity said, fumbling with the cake plate in her hands.

“No problem, Amity.” Edric yelled back, picking up a rather large shopping bag.

——-

Once the last gift was hauled up to her room, Amity wished Ed and Em good night, and shut the door behind her.

“That was one hell of a day,” Amity sighed, throwing her boots and visor off.

She untied her plaid shirt and ripped the tie off of her ponytail, and, of course, took off those ridiculous hoop earrings she’d put on.

Amity fell on her bed and pulled the covers over her, feeling just how warm and soft they were.

She smiled, knowing she was too tired to even have a hot bath or read a book like she’d planned.

She’d ditched her schedule anyways. It wasn’t useful after she’d realized just how menial and boring it was.

Boring.

Today was definitely _anything_ but boring.

And, if Amity was gonna be honest—

—it wasn’t like a repeat, or a disaster.

So maybe that would’ve been enough to make her happy.

Amity shifted her head to the side and glanced at the pink-and-brown unicorn that was laying on her bed.

Maybe it was spending her day with her amazing (and somewhat slightly insufferable) friends. Maybe it was because she got some amazing fucking doodles out of this day.

Or… maybe it was because she’d promised herself to try to see the good in things.

Amity reached for the stuffed unicorn and held it closely against her, nuzzling its soft fur.

Trying to constantly see the good in things is fucking hard, of course. It wasn’t going to simply take a birthday candle.

But after today, after all of this, how good it all felt, just to not live in a fucking repeat of a day, just to stop asking when something will happen—

Amity would be willing to give it as many tries as it took.

And she’d need that patience for what was going to happen next.

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

It wasn’t actually that long of a wait. 10 days, actually.

It all started the morning Amity strolled into Hexside. By this time, autumn was in full swing. Posters were already being hung around the school, advertising horror and halloween-themed events for October.

It felt... kind of surreal, actually. Amity never really bothered to notice all of the halloween decorations lining the hallway, but now that it’s her last year at Hexside..

.. everything was kind of starting to feel nostalgic to her. I mean, nostalgic is a pretty light word. There are definitely a lot of moments in this school that Amity never wanted to revisit.

But Amity was kind of... missing all of the blurs of partying and football games, of spelling bees and pop quizzes.

She dug her hands deeper into her jeans’ pockets and sighed, looking at all of the posters and decorations.

“Damn, am I sure gonna miss all of you,” She muttered under her breath.

Amity walked along the hall, letting her memory take the lead, guiding her feet to her locker.

Which is probably why she didn’t notice the scene unfolding next to her until she walked right past it.

“Hey Fido, where’s the doggy treats you were gonna give us?”

“Yeah, Bitch! Pay up!”

Amity stood right where she was and growled.

It wasn’t often that she heard Boscha and the girls bully someone. Of course, there was the occasional nerd here and there.

Amity never really joined in on teasing someone. It just wasn’t her thing.

“Back off! I don’t have any money for you guys!”

Amity froze.

That voice.

That _familiar_ voice.

“Oh, so you’re not gonna repay us for borrowing some of our money for meal tickets?”

“Look, I just don’t have it yet! Just, I don’t know, gimme two weeks, and I’ll have it for you, no sweat!”

“The deal’s up! You either pay now, or we fuck your shit!”

Amity snapped her head around and marched towards the girls.

“What the fuck are you guys doing?” Amity shouted, grabbing Boscha by the shoulder and jerking her around.

“Business. We paid for a bitch’s grocery two weeks ago, with the deal that she’d give us the money back. She ain’t payin’ up.” Boscha answered.

Amity turned to face them. “Look, Bosch, I honestly think you should ju—“

Amity stood there, eyes wide, her hand slowly letting go of Boscha’s shoulder.

“Hey, Amity! I’m uh—kinda in a sticky situation right now, if you didn’t already notice.” Luz said, waving to Amity. “Er, by the way, do you know these people?”

Boscha looked at Amity. “You’re friends with this bitch?”

Amity glared at Luz. “Never met her before.”

“The hell? We worked together on a creative writing project, don’t you remember—“

Amity pushed Luz against one of the lockers.

“I said, we’ve never fucking met before.”

Truthfully, Amity could’ve stopped when she’d noticed the situation happening.

Amity looked around as the faces of her whole posse watched her.

They all stared back, with a look that said,”Go ahead, make our day.”

Boscha simply looked like she was waiting for Amity to start beating Luz senseless.

Amity sighed. _If I don’t do something, they’ll all start ganging up on me._

She looked back to Luz, lifting herself off of the locker.

“Well?” Amity asked, a new kind of venom present in her voice.

“Well what?”

“Aren’t you gonna pay up?” Amity questioned, staring knives at Luz.

“I don’t have the money. Look, if these are your friends, could you like, I don’t know, tell them to leave me the hell alone?” Luz answered.

“As nice as that would be, I’m afraid you only have two options. Pay up, or square up.” Amity continued, cracking her knuckles together. “What’ll it be?”

Also, truth be told, Amity had absolutely no intention of wanting to fight Luz. Her stomach made cartwheels at the thought of hitting an innocent person who hadn’t done anything to her.

But she looked behind, and saw all of the posse staring at her.

“I can’t actually believe you’re doing this. We’re friends! The last thing I’d wanna do is fight you!” Luz exclaimed, but at this point, trying to reason with Amity was like talking to a wall.

“I already told you, we’re not fucking friends!” Amity yelled, turning around making the blind decision to throw a punch.

Of course, had her fist hit the locker, it would’ve made a loud metal impact noise, and the pain her hand would have faced would’ve been excruciatingly painful.

But the pain she felt when she knew what she’d really hit was even worse.

Amity backed away from the locker, a horrible surge of pain fizzing through her fist.

She looked down.

Luz was crouched down on the floor against the locker, hand held to her head, wincing and whimpering.

Whatever the fuck Amity’d done to her, it hurt.

Amity just stood there, unsure of what to do. And she didn’t have time to do anything, because—

“MRS. NOCEDA AND MRS. BLIGHT, WHAT IN HEAVENS NAME DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?”

Mrs. Jenkenmier shouted, her large-toed heels shaking the floor as she walked, causing students to back out of the way in fear.

Basically, Jenkenmier was one of the strictest teachers at Hexside. Fuck up in front of her, and you’re done for.

Which means Amity was as good as toast.

“Uhm—I—I wasn’t—I didn’t mean to!” Amity held her hands up defensively.

“THEN TELL ME, HOW IN GOD’S HOLY WORD DID YOUR FIST REACH HER FACE?” Mrs. Jenkenmier shouted back, her ridiculous silver wig bouncing with every single word she shouted from her mouth.

Amity froze in her place, paralyzed with fear. For a 5’0 woman, Mrs. Jenkenmier could scare any normal person a signifigant amount.

“I-I’m—“ Amity stuttered.

“That’s what I thought! Both of you, to the principal’s office NOW!” Mrs. Jenkenmier screeched.

Amity had no choice but to nod and help Luz up.

She turned to Luz and grabbed her by the arm, pulling her up from the ground.

“Are you—“

“I’m fine.” Luz interrupted, snatching her hand away from Amity’s grasp. “Just a tiny bruise on my head. It’s nothing a little bit of ice can’t fix.”

Amity sighed, and turned to look back at Boscha and her gang.

They left, to no surprise, leaving Amity to face the music instead of them.

She grumbled.

“Well then, we’d better get to the office, or we’ll make Mrs. Jenkenmier more mad than she already is.” Amity said, turning back around and starting the walk to the office, her fist buried in her sweatshirt’s pocket, still paralyzed from pain.

*

Amity and Luz walked beside each other to the office, without a word.

It was silent. Like, deathly silent. Not even a breath could be heard between the two.

Amity desperately wanted to open her mouth to say something, but she couldn’t bring herself to.

A few minutes later, Amity clutched her hand around the door to the front office and opened it.

_Been a while since I’ve been in here,_ She thought, looking around at the office as Luz stepped in beside her.

The secretary, Mrs. Harper, looked up from her paper-sorting.

“I heard what happened earlier.” She said, lifting her glasses down the bridge of her nose and looking at Amity through the corner of her eye, a grimace on her face. “I’m very disappointed in both of you, especially you, Amity.”

Amity couldn’t do anything except nod. I mean, what could she do? Apologize for socking Luz in the face? Ten minutes after she’d already done it?

She’d have a better chance of surviving jumping into a volcano than getting out of this.

“Principal Bump is currently out doing errands around the school. He should return to his office in a little bit. I advise you both to take your seats in there beforehand.” Mrs. Harper continued, looking back down at her papers.

Amity nodded and sighed, turning to the left and walking to the principal’s office.

Once both Luz and her had stepped in through the door, she shut it behind her and sat on one of the two chairs sitting in front of the principal’s desk.

Luz sat as well, and there were a few still moments of silence between them.

Amity’s gaze drifted around the room, then back to Luz.

Luz was definitely angry. Her usually peppy smile had turned sour, and she had her hand around her head, gently cupped around the area where she’d been hit. Amity could hear her wincing and whimpering still, but not as bad as earlier.

Amity could also hear Luz’s foot tapping against the floor impatiently. _So she’s just as anxious as I am,_ Amity thought.

Then, Luz’s eyes met Amity’s.

_Fuck, um—she knows I was looking at her. Just—say something!_

“That’s a pretty nasty wound you got there, Luz.” Amity said awkwardly.

“Yeah. Makes you wonder how the hell it got there.” Luz scoffed.

And there it is.

“Should I go down to the nurse’s office and get some ice for you?” Amity offered, smiling.

“No, I’m fine. We’re supposed to stay here right now, anyways.” Luz replied.

“But it looks like it hurts—“

“I said I’m fine.” Luz insisted, growling under her breath. “Look, Amity, if you really wanted to annoy me, then you could just cut to the chase and start punching me in the face again. Not that that could fix what you did earlier, anyway.”

Amity frowned.

“Fine, you bitch. Just decline my help.” Amity scoffed.

“I never needed it.” Luz retorted. “Never wanted it, either.”

Amity rolled her eyes and adjusted her position in the chair, crossing her arms together.

“I’ll never know why you wanted to work with me on the project,” Amity muttered under her breath.

“Hm?” Luz turned her head towards Amity.

“You probably knew this whole thing was gonna be a problem from the start. Why didn’t you just ask for another partner?” Amity asked, turning to face Luz.

“Well, one, I couldn’t. Two, I didn’t care to. I knew the moment I met you that what we had to do would be hard.” Luz replied, her tone still full of venom. “You say it like I wanted to do this with you.”

Amity blinked.

“You did.”

Luz turned away.

“You did want to do this with me.”

Luz didn’t say anything.

Amity turned away. _There’s no point in continuing this,_ She thought.

She heard the office door open up, and Principal Bump strolled in.

Amity sat straight up, although at this point, having good posture wouldn’t atone for what she did earlier.

Bump sat at his desk and folded his arms neatly, and stared at both of the girls.

“I heard there was a fight earlier.” He said, a grimace (with an uncanny resemblance to Mrs. Harper’s) forming across his face.

Amity nodded. “Yes, there was a fight earlier.”

“A few witnesses say that you proceeded to pin Luz against a locker and punch her, yes?”

Amity nodded again. “Yep.”

“So, and I don’t mean to be rude, to make this a very short process, you instigated a fight on school grounds. That calls for 2 weeks of detention.” Bump continued. “For the both of you. I can’t say this was just Mrs. Blight’s fault.”

Luz grumbled under her breath. “I understand, Principal Bump.”

“As do I,” Amity said.

“I’m not done yet, however. It appears you two have a bit of a history together, correct?” Bump asked, not giving Luz or Amity enough time to answer the question. “I’ve been told that you two are partners on the same elective.”

Amity gulped. Yep, that’s the catch.

“We are, Principal Bump.” Luz answered dryly.

“So, I’m afraid I can’t let disruptions like this continue in my school. I’ll schedule a few meetings with the school counselor for you both.” Bump continued.

_Great. Now I can add “school-issued therapy” to my list of Top 10 Grand Fuckups,_ Amity thought.

Luz lifted her head up. “Anything else, Principal Bump?’

“Unless if you would like to ask for a lollipop, then no.” Bump replied. “However, they do have them at the nurse’s office, which is where I advise you two should probably head next.”

Luz sighed, and got up out of her seat. “We will. Thank you for your time, Principal Bump.”

“Anytime.” Bump smiled.

Amity got up as well, and opened the door to the office, walking out before Luz could catch up to her.

She had a reason to, anyways. Her hand was killing her.

She flung open the door to the nurse’s office with her free hand. (It wasn’t that far away, considering the nurse’s office and the front office were connected.)

Amity took her hand out of her sweatshirt pocket and stared at it.

It was bleeding of course, and a giant section of it still ached from the impact.

Amity grinded her teeth together. Fuck, was it hurting badly.

“Ma’am, how can I help you?”

Amity perked her head up.

A small lady sat at a desk in the office. Her eyes were directed at Amity.

“Right, um—my hand’s kinda, you know. Busted.” Amity answered, walking over to the desk and holding out her fist.

“That’s quite an injury you got there. Not to worry. I’ll bandage it up for you, and you’ll be set to go.” The lady observed, getting up out of her desk and walking over to the cabinets behind her.

“Uh-what do I do in the meantime?” Amity asked, slipping her hand back into her sweatshirt’s pocket.

“Feel free to sit down in one of the waiting chairs.” The lady answered.

Amity looked over at the cheap fabric couches sitting in front of the office.

She walked over to one of them and sat down, gently stroking her hurt hand with her free one.

It wasn’t long before she felt a person sitting right next to her.

Amity looked up.

Luz was there, of course, holding her head from the pain. Not once since she’d been hit had she taken her hand off of the area.

Amity turned her gaze back down to her lap before Luz could notice she was staring.

The lady came back a few minutes later, bandages in her hand.

“Could you hold out your hand? This’ll only take a second.” The lady asked, looking down at the imprint of Amity’s hand in her sweatshirt.

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” Amity replied, taking her injured hand out and unfolding the palm, wincing as she did.

The lady gently wrapped an ointment covered bandaged around Amity’s palm, tying the edge of the gauze in a nice little ribbon once she was done.

“You should be set to go. Now remember, it’ll take a few days to heal, so I advise not exerting large amounts of force with that hand.” The lady said, gathering the rest of the bandage roll in her hand. The lady turned her head over to Luz, and winced.

“What happened to you, dear?” The lady asked, turning to walk towards Luz.

“Got hit earlier.” Luz replied dryly, lifting her hand off of her head.

“Ouch. That looks nasty. Let me get something for that.” The lady replied, walking back to the cabinets.

Amity got up off of the couch and walked out of the nurse’s office.

Her hand was already bandaged, so there was no need to stick around and miss any more classes.

Amity speedwalked out of the nurse’s and front office, and through the hall.

There’s a chance that I’m definitely late to History, she thought, her free hand gripping her backpack.

Of course, she didn’t get that far in the hallway before a hand jerked her shoulder.

“So you’re just gonna walk away like that? Nothing to say?”

Amity turned around and saw Luz glaring right at her.

“What do you mean?” Amity asked.

“I mean—“—Luz crossed her arms and sighed—“—You didn’t even apologize. Bat an eye. You just sat there and accepted the punishments Bump gave us.”

“Yeah, like I was supposed to.” Amity replied, rolling her eyes.

“So that’s it? You think that’s all? That you can just walk away and pretend it didn’t happen? Do you even feel sorry?” Luz questioned.

“Well—“

“No. You don’t. I should’ve guessed.” Luz scoffed.

“Can’t you let me explain myself?” Amity asked.

“What, do you have anything meaningful to say? Like an apology?” Luz asked back.

Amity stood there.

She couldn’t speak.

“I—“

“You know what, Amity? If you wanted to fight in the first place, then let’s do that. If you want, we can settle our apparent disagreements with violence.” Luz said, anger in her voice. “If you’re up to it, meet me at the gas station on West Avenue. 10 P.M. sharp.”

Amity growled. Obviously, if Luz didn’t want to fight, she wouldn’t have said that.

But now? If that’s what Luz really wanted, then so be it.

“Fine. I accept. We blow off steam, settle our differences.” Amity replied.

“If you win, I can’t say a word about this to you ever again. But if I win, you’ll have to apologize, since that’s so hard for you to do without a fight.” Luz said, holding out her hand. “We’ll shake on it.”

Amity looked at Luz’s hand, and took it in her free hand, shaking it.

“It’s a date.” Amity said, before turning around and walking off to biology.

But once Luz was out of view, the scowl disappeared off of Amity’s face.

Was she.. really, and I mean _really,_ doing the right thing?

_Whatever,_ Amity thought. _There’s no backing out now._

And she’d just have to see how this would turn out.

—

Of course, as soon as Amity got home, she sat at the kitchen table and put her head in one of her hands.

Emira was at the stove cooking something. She turned her head towards Amity.

“Rough day at school?” She asked.

“You could say.” Amity replied.

“Your hand looks awful. What happened to it?”

Amity lifted her head up. “Gym accident. Got a ball scraped against my fist.”

She really didn’t want to tell Emira she’d punched her writing assignment partner in the face, and then proceeded to accept a staged fight with her.

“Ouch. Well, anyways, dinner’s gonna be ready soon. We’re cooking—“—Emira turned her head towards the pantryroom—“—Ed, what are we cooking?”

“Lasagna, I think.” Edric replied.

Amity looked down at her hand again.

There were definitely a lot of reasons not to accept a fight with Luz. One, Amity didn’t know how strong she was. And two, Amity’s hand hadn’t completely healed yet.

So fighting with it again would be pretty big mistake.

But again, there was no backing out of this.

“I might have to leave again at 10:00. Boscha wanted me and a couple of my other friends to meet up at some restaurant.” Amity said, after a while. She knew she’d probably look suspicious if she randomly left the house at night, so of course an alibi was needed.

“That sounds nice, but I’m afraid you’ve been skipping waaaay too many dinners with us, Amity. Don’t you wanna eat with your bro and sis?” Emira said, leaning on the open, watching the pot boil.

“I wasn’t going to eat at the restaurant, anyways.” Amity said, which was a half-lie. She’d probably be too tired to eat anything after she kicked Luz’s ass.

Emira looked at Amity for a moment. She looked like she was trying to figure Amity out.

Amity looked the other way. If Emira knew she was lying—

“That’s great. Then you’ll be able to eat dinner with us.” Emira smiled, turning back to the pot. “Which, speaking of—“

She reached down and pulled a large glass container out of the oven and set it on the countertop.

“It’s done.”

Edric raced into the kitchen. “Ooh, and I can smell it! It smells amazing!”

Amity turned away from all of the commotion going on in the kitchen and checked her phone.

_6:30 P.M._

She sighed, and scanned the screen for any notifications.

_No new texts._

Amity shut off her phone and looked at the table, just in time for Emira to set the big lasagna plate on it.

“I’ll go get some silverware and plates.” Em said, walking back over to the kitchen and digging through the cabinets.

Amity quickly slipped her phone back into her bag and pretended like she wasn’t worrying about anything.

A while later, the table was set and dinner was in full swing.

Emira and Edric were happily chatting away with each other, leaving Amity to pick at her food in utter silence.

Edric turned to Amity. “So, how was your day at school?”

Amity looked up. “It was.. interesting.”

Edric looked at Amity’s hand.

“That looks like it hurts.” He said, pointing a pasta-covered fork at it.

“Just some minor injury, that’s all.” Amity brushed him off nonchalantly, and dug a fork into her food.

“She said she got a ball scraped against her fist,” Emira chimed in.

“Yeah, I did. And what about it?” Amity retorted, slamming her fork into her food.

Ed and Em looked at each other.

“I was just pointing out what you said earlier, no need to get all defensive about it.” Emira said.

Amity looked down, realizing she’d just blown up in Ed and Em’s faces.

“I—“—Amity cleared her throat and picked up her plate of food—“—I need to excuse myself for a bit. Sorry—about that.” She said, walking out of the kitchen and up the stairs to her room.

“What’s got her so worked up?” Edric asked, once Amity was out of earshot.

“I’m not sure.” Emira replied. “But I think it might have something to do with her hand.”

*

Amity put the food on her desk and fell on her bed, sighing heavily.

“What the fuck kind of mind game is she playing with me?” Amity growled, putting her hands to her head.

She looked up and sighed.

Ever since Luz had walked away, Amity’d been anxious. Worried.

But she’d been telling herself that it was fine. That all of this was fine.

But it wasn’t.

None of it was.

“Damn my unapologetic ass! I should’ve just told her I was sorry!” Amity yelled, her hands curling into fists.

She let out a breath, and looked at her injured hand.

“I shouldn’t even have hurt her in the first place.”

Amity rose off of her bed and stared at the food on her dresser.

She picked up her phone and turned it on, checking the time.

_7:45 P.M._

“Maybe driving to the gas station now might help cool my nerves, or something.” Amity said, standing up and walking to her dresser.

She looked at the food on the plate, and for a second, it almost seemed to stare back at her.

“I should probably eat first,” She noted, twirling the fork in the pasta.

—

It was an hour-long drive to the gas station.

By now, it was already 9:15. The sun had set and the darkness had really begun to shade on the city.

Amity pulled up to the dingy gas station. A 7-Eleven stood there, the neon on the sign slowly fading, giving the entire gas station an unlively aura.

_Yeesh,_ Amity thought, taking her car off of the gas and pulling the keys out of the ignition.

Even the lights inside the store barely illicited a glow.

Something about this entire scene felt off.

Amity looked around. She hadn’t gotten out of her car yet.

And, she noted, looking around the lot, Luz hadn’t pulled up yet either.

Amity sat back and relaxed in her seat, staring up at the ceiling.

She could hear the cheesy 2014 pop music blaring in from the 7-Eleven.

She smiled, and tapped her hands on the car dashboard to the rhythm.

Of course, that didn’t last long.

Amity heard a car pull up next to her.

Not just any car though.

The engine sounded like a dying cat, which was an obvious giveaway to who’s car it was.

Amity instantly jerked her hands away from the dashboard and turned her head to look at the car next to her.

Sure enough, it was Luz’s busted up Sedan.

Amity sighed, and opened the door to get out of her car, choosing to leave her purse behind.

She looked around at the empty parking lot.

She sighed a breath of relief, knowing absolutely no one was there to watch a bitchfight between two random high schoolers.

She heard a door open on the Sedan.

“So, you decided to show up after all.”

Amity snapped her head around.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Amity questioned back, walking up to a very smug Luz.

“Because. I thought I’d be too intimidating for you to actually accept the challenge.” Luz replied, crossing her arms.

“You’re the literal equivalent of a french fry compared to me. I think that bandage around your head says enough.” Amity said, walking over to the emptier side of the parking lot.

“You caught me off guard that time!” Luz shouted defensively, running after Amity.

“I still socked you hard.” Amity replied, stopping once she’d reached the end of the parking lot.

“If you don’t shut up, I’ll give you a bruise just like it.” Luz growled.

“Aw, cute. We can be twins.” Amity chuckled darkly, turning around.

The streetlight above them dimly illuminated the area, giving Amity a distilled glow. It outlined the dark circles under her eyes.

“Here’s the rules. We go until one of us gives up. No usage of outside sources. And, my personal favorite rule, hair cannot be used as a trigger weapon.” Amity started off.

Luz scoffed and rolled her eyes. “With your nest of hair, no wonder why it’s your favorite rule.”

“I’ll start when you’re ready.” Amity said, cracking her knuckles.

“You talk too much, yaknow that?” Luz replied, stepping a foot closer to Amity, already in a defensive pose.

Amity decided not to answer that question, instead simply lunging at her and grabbing her in a chokehold.

“I like to consider myself conversational.” Amity whispered, pinning Luz’s arms against her back.

“You don’t know when to shut up,” Luz choked out, breaking free of Amity’s grip and surging a fist at her shoulder.

“Fair point,” Amity said, dodging the fist Luz threw at her, and instead preferring to grab Luz’s wrist and twist it backwards. “But I like to think that an inability to shut up might cause me to say something smart.”

Luz winced, her wrist cracking from the pain. She jerked it out of Amity’s grasp and instead decided to go for the face instead. “That’s a low chance. I haven’t heard you say anything ingenious since I first met you.”

Amity rolled her eyes and dove forward at Luz, putting her hands around both of her shoulders and pushing her backwards until Luz hit the back of the Sedan’s passenger door. “You sure thought I was smart when we were working on the project a few weeks ago,” Amity replied, bringing her and Luz’s faces closer together, tightening her grip on Luz’s shoulders. “What happened to that?”

Luz looked up at Amity, struggling to get her arms to move under the sheer force of Amity’s strength. “You were smart, you bitch. Had some amazing ideas too. What the hell happened to those?”

Luz pushed one of her hands free and slammed it into Amity’s cheek, breaking her out of the hold she’d been in.

Amity rubbed a hand against her cheek and growled, staring directly at Luz from the tops of her eyes.

It was at this point Luz knew she’d crossed a line.

Luz started backing up to the edge of the parking lot again.

“Life happened, Luz. I never said we were friends outside of the project, what gave you that notion?” Amity asked, slowly walking towards Luz, fire in her eyes.

Luz was visibly nervous. She kept backing up to the end of the lot.

“I—I just—you—you were so nice to me. The otter bag, remember? Remember how you said I wasn’t that bad? How we’d meet again in two weeks?” Luz asked, her eyes darting back and forth, her expression one of unease.

Amity looked at Luz, noticing her unease.

But instead of feeling victory or triumph, she felt guilty.

But that didn’t diminish the insane smile on her face as she crept closer to Luz.

“I remember, alright.” Amity replied, her free hand curling into a fist. Her cheek was red with blood, and it was starting to drip down the side of her face.

“I—Amity, I just—I don’t hate you.” Luz said, backing into the streetlight, nowhere else to go.

Amity continued walking forward, but her insane smile started to drop.

“I never did. Maybe I disliked you a significant amount when I first met you, but—“—Luz looked around the parking lot for an escape—“—I don’t hate you.”

“Then what the fuck do you think about me?” Amity questioned, drawing closer and closer to Luz with every step.

“I—I like you. I think you’re a kind of amazing person. But—this? I never wanted any of this.” Luz replied, a tear rolling down her cheek.

Amity stopped walking.

She gazed at Luz hesitatingly from the top of her eyes.

And she lunged at her.

A few seconds later, Amity’s vision started to clear up, and she focused her eyes.

The fuzzy recollection of what had caused her to land on the grass behind the streetlight started coming back to her.

She blinked back the blurryness of her vision, and that’s when she realized—

She was directly on top of Luz, arms wrapped around her.

Hugging her.

“Amity?”

Amity nearly choked.

She pulled herself off of the ground and held herself over Luz.

Luz was awake, of course, and staring right back at Amity.

“Did you just—“

Amity smiled.

“I did.”

Luz smiled back.

“So I wasn’t wrong. You really are amazing.” Luz said, gazing right into Amity’s eyes.

“And you’re not that bad yourself.” Amity replied, gazing right back.

“And.. why are you on top of me again?” Luz asked.

Amity felt her face go red.

_Shit._

She shot off of Luz.

“I’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorry—“ Amity tried to choke out. She put her head in her hands.

“It’s fine, really.” Luz replied, sitting upright.

Amity cleared her throat and looked away, trying to erase what she’d just done from her memory.

She looked at Luz again, concern spreading across her face.

“Your arm looks pretty bad.” Amity said.

Luz covered her arm with her other hand. “Nah, it’s fine. Not as bad as your cheek though.”

Amity rolled her eyes. “You got me good.”

Luz looked down at the ground.

“So I guess neither of us win, right?” She said.

“We were both losers the moment we started fighting.” Amity replied, looking off into the distance. “I’m sorry. For punching you earlier, at Hexside.”

Luz smiled. “I forgive you.”

Amity stood up, her mind still fuzzy, but clear enough to form coherent thoughts.

“We should probably go get some bandages or something.” Amity said, looking at the lonely 7-Eleven standing a few feet away from them.

“You’ve got some good ideas.” Luz replied, standing up as well, clutching her bleeding wrist.

Amity draped an arm around Luz’s shoulder and helped her up, noticing she was having a hard time standing up on her own.

“You didn’t have to help me, you know.” Luz joked. “I can stand up just fine on my own.”

“But I am anyways. Come on, don’t try to fight it.” Amity said, walking to the gas station, holding onto Luz.

*

Sometimes, even 7-Elevens can host the seeds of budding friendships.

(Yes. This includes ones that have had all of the life drained out of them.)

Amity walked into the gas station (after opening up her car door and fishing her wallet out of her purse, which, mind you, was not an easy task to do when lugging Luz around on her shoulder.)

“I’m pretty sure I’ll be able to smell the septic of the bandages once we reach that section.” Luz said, leaning away from Amity’s grasp and brushing herself off.

“You sure you can walk fine?” Amity asked.

“Yeah, pretty sure.” Luz replied, walking into the aisles.

Amity sauntered around the station’s store, looking for the medical aisle. (Which, admittedly, was a weird thing to be looking for in a gas station of all places.)

“Found ‘em!” Luz shouted, running over to Amity, a package in her hands.

“You sure this’ll be enough?” Amity asked, staring at the package of gauze.

“Yep.” Luz said, skipping over to the checkout.

To make a long story short, Amity had never seen a more confused cashier. The worker looked up and down at both of them with utter confusion, before shaking their head and scanning the items.

Amity walked out of the 7-Eleven and immediately tore open the package, unwrapping the large roll of gauze.

She sat down on the concrete next to the gas station, and started gently rubbing the bandage against her cheek.

Luz sat right next to her.

“Er.. are you sure that’ll help?” Luz asked, looking at Amity struggling to make the bleeding on her cheek stop.

“Absolutely not. But enough about me. How’s your arm doing?” Amity asked, looking at Luz’s arm.

“The bleeding’s definitely stopped, but the pain hasn’t. I think you might’ve sprained something when you twisted it.” Luz said, holding out her wrist.

Amity gently took Luz’s wrist in her hand. “This might hurt just a little bit.” She said, rolling up Luz’s sleeve and carefully wrapping the bandage around her wrist.

“Ow—definitely doesn’t hurt as much as when you twisted it.” Luz joked, wincing at the pain.

Amity tied off the bandage with a little ribbon and stuffed the bandage roll in her sweatshirt’s pocket. “There.”

Luz rolled her sleeve back over her wrist and stared ahead at the street.

Of course. They were in the middle of the city. Cars were still rolling by and lights were still shining bright, even in the dead of night.

_This pit of despair never seems to stop shining, does it?_ Amity thought, looking at all of the cars passing by.

“Why’d you do it, Amity?”

Amity looked at Luz.

“Do what?”

“Why’d you punch me earlier? At Hexside?” Luz asked again, turning to look at Amity.

Amity thought for a second.

“I do have a reason. It’s not—it’s not really a reason though. Doesn’t justify what I did anyway.” Amity sighed.

“Well, can you tell me it?” Luz asked.

“I guess—I guess maybe I was so afraid of Boscha and the others ganging up on me that I just—succumbed to the pressure. And maybe it was because they were my friends, and I thought you would, I don’t know, hurt them.” Amity answered, sighing. “It’s complicated.”

Luz half-smiled. “Everything’s complicated with you.”

Amity turned towards Luz and looked at her directly in the eyes. “That’s not all. I guess—in a really skewed and strange way, I wanted to protect you from them. Although I probably hurt you even more then they would.”

Luz’s eyes widened in surprise.

“I punched you once so that you didn’t have to deal with four punches. But it still hurt you.” Amity continued.

“Damn right it did,” Luz joked, a full smile spreading across her face.

Amity turned to look back at the street.

“That wasn’t much of a fight, was it?” Amity said, after a bit of silence.

“Nah. I could tell we both weren’t feeling it.” Luz replied.

“Wait, you didn’t want to—“

“It tore me up, thinking about hurting you after knowing what a good person you were. I was hoping you’d chicken out so that I wouldn’t have to hurt you.” Luz continued, her tone distant. “But in the end, we both hurt each other. We’ve really come full circle, huh?”

Amity smiled, and dove in to hug Luz again.

“Hey—“

“I’m sorry for hurting you, Luz.” Amity said, burying her face in Luz’s shirt.

Luz smiled, and hugged her back.

“I’m sorry for hurting you too, Amity. Can you like, I dunno, warn me the next time you try to surprise hug me?” Luz said, pulling away.

“That takes the surprise out of it.” Amity joked.

Luz was just about to say something, when her phone rang from her pocket.

“Crud, another text from Melanie.” Luz grumbled, rolling her eyes and pulling her phone from her jean pocket.

“Uh.. who’s Melanie?” Amity asked, raising an eyebrow.

“My coworker at Taco Burger. Damnit, she wants me to fill in for her shift on Tuesday. Again.” Luz growled, typing into her phone.

“What are you gonna tell her?” Amity asked, peering at Luz’s phone.

“That I’ll take her shift. I mean, sure! It’s totally NOT like I don’t already work 18 hours a week! Can’t she give it a break?” Luz huffed.

“Maybe you shouldn’t let yourself get pushed around like that. Just a suggestion.” Amity replied.

“Ugh. There’s nothing I can do about it anyways. I’m the only Spanish-speaking person working at that restaurant. Half the customers that come in don’t speak english, so I’m the only one able to transcribe for the majority of the workers there. The whole place basically depends on me.” Luz grumbled, shutting her phone off and putting it back in her pocket.

“You must be a good worker then, I’ll bet.” Amity said, putting a hand on Luz’s shoulder.

“You’re just saying that. Have you ever even worked a day at a fast food restaurant in the middle of a city?” Luz questioned.

“Well—no, but I’m just saying that because I think you’re a good worker. It sounds like you have to put up with a lot of your co-worker’s bullshit.” Amity said.

“Whatever.” Luz said, rolling her eyes and smiling, getting up from the sidewalk. “So, I guess, this makes us friends now?”

“I’m pretty sure it does.” Amity smiled back, nudging Luz with her elbow. “So, we meet for another workshop next Thursday?”

“Yep. I’m thinking, maybe I could get a shift off at Taco Burger, me and you could go there, and brainstorm there. I’ll get a worker’s discount on food, if you want any.” Luz replied.

“Uh, sure thing. Sounds great, I’ll see you then.” Amity said, walking back to the Chevrolet.

But before she even got to walking, she turned back around to Luz.

“Hey, Luz, have you ever heard of the phrase “looking at the bright side of things”?” Amity asked.

Luz raised an eyebrow. “I have, why?”

“‘Cause. Maybe this is just a hunch, but I feel like I kind of see all of the good things in you. Or, at least I try to.” Amity said, smiling.

Luz’s eyes widened, but she beamed as well.

“I try to see the good in everyone.” Luz replied, stepping closer to everyone. “Why should you be any different?”

“It’s just—I dunno. I’ve kind of felt like no one sees anything in me. Not anything good, at least.” Amity said, looking down.

“Shut up, alright? You’ve got lots of good things about you. Like your humor, or your art, or even your lion’s mane of a hairstyle.” Luz said, putting a hand on Amity’s shoulder. “Don’t talk yourself down like that.”

Amity looked up at Luz and smiled.

“You even brought up the hair.” Amity said, pretending to tear up.

“Of course I brought up the hair.” Luz replied, visually restraining herself from laughing.

Amity looked at her car again. “Well, I should probably leave now. Em and Ed will be on my ass when I get home. I guess—see you next Thursday?” Amity asked, before turning away to walk to her car.

“See you next Thursday.” Luz replied, watching as Amity turned and walked away.

——-

It was a mildly long drive home.

Amity lifted her foot off of the gas and took the key out of the ignition, looking at the front driveway of Blight Manor.

She sighed, knowing exactly what Ed and Em were going to say to her once she got through the front door.

Amity grabbed her purse and got out of the car, making sure there was absolutely no blood left on herself before she walked up to the front door of the house.

Amity took a deep breath, and opened the door, fully prepared for the barrage of questions about where she’d been these past few hours.

But instead, the entire foyer was.. empty. Absolutely no noise.

None of the lights were on either, which came as a surprise to Amity.

Her guess was that Ed and Em had already headed to bed, which was definitely a surprise in itself.

Amity shrugged. If it meant she didn’t have to get reprimanded for getting in a fight in a gas station parking lot.

She walked upstairs, the scent of blood on her clothes getting stronger and stronger.

_Ugh,_ Amity thought. _This stuff isn’t coming off without a good shower._

She rounded the hall to her bedroom and opened the door, throwing her purse onto her bed and skipping towards the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.

**

A few minutes later, Amity came out of the bathroom, thankfully NOT smelling like a fresh murder crime scene.

She fell on her bed and yawned, stretching comfily in her fluffy pink bathrobe. (Yes. She was 18 with a fluffy pink bathrobe. There are just some things in this world that you never grow old for.)

“Shitting fuck, what time is it?” Amity said, blindly groping around her bed for her purse.

She snatched her purse and pulled her phone out of it, turning the screen on.

_12:56 A.M._

“Huh.” Amity said, half-existentially.

Her eyes scanned the notifications that had popped up.

_1 new text notification from Contact 562-8964._

Amity perked up, and tapped the notifications app.

She read the text from Luz.

_“Alright, so as it turns out, Principal Bump scheduled our first counseling session for Wednesday. Looks like I’ll be seeing you three times this week :o)”_

Amity started typing.

_“ha. one in mr. deplume’s class, one in school therapy, and one in our workshop. the universe intertwines our fates yet again.”_

_“Sure seems like it. I’ve got a shift tomorrow, so I’ll probably need to sleep now so I don’t lose my marbles on an innocent person. Night :D”_

Amity rolled her eyes.

_“night, luz.”_

Amity yawned again, and threw the covers over herself, nuzzling her head into one of her pillows.

She had her hand on the power button for the phone, ready to turn it off.

But… there was something she felt she needed to do.

She stared at the name Luz had in her phone’s ‘Contacts’ app.

_Contact 562-8964._

Amity smiled.

She pressed her finger on the contact name and an option pulled up to edit it.

Amity typed _“Luz”._

After all, friends should have each others’ names registered into their phones.

(It’s one of those unwritten laws of friendships.)

Amity shut her phone off and put it on her dresser.

She stared at the ceiling and smiled.

_Luz really does see something in me, doesn’t she?_

_She really_ **_is_ ** _something else._

Of course, Amity didn’t know how Luz worked.

To understand that, she’d need to take a walk in her shoes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading this chapter! if u liked it, leave a kudos! (if u comment. srsly. ilysm <3)
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> and, as always, feel free to follow my tumblr! https://elliestarss.tumblr.com
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> (and yes, if u were wondering, we're gonna switch to a different pov next chapter *wink*. it releases in march, so be on the lookout for that! see you then :o) )

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! and, if you’re made that you didn’t get to meet everyone else in this chapter, just wait. you’ll meet them soon ;)
> 
> if you liked this chapter, feel free to leave a kudos! it really helps!  
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